Ameliorating the Future
by Lupin's Mistress
Summary: Sequel to Atoning the Past read that one first , set three months after that one. AU-DH. Summary inside. Severitus challenge. Harry must deal with finding the horcruxes and the war as well as facing his father, Severus Snape. Read and review.
1. Visiting

**Author's Note: **I guess I don't know how to begin. I finally have a title, which is most of the reason this hasn't been up earlier. Oh, and I might as well say this just in case...if you have not read Atoning the Past then you should probably read that first just because everything will make better sense to you if you do read that first. Both Atoning the Past and this story, Amerliorating the Future are based off of the Severitus Challenge.

This chapter was really hard to write mostly because I had so many different things I could do and picking a path and sticking to it was hard particularly when every single one of them fit with the plot, but I finally settled for this which is probably good seeing as it led to exactly what I wanted to happen. I'm still not sure about it though and I think it still needs a lot of work but I guess it's fine. Enjoy. Please review.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**_Chapter One_**

_Visiting_

_July 31, 1998_

The pristine white room belonging to Madame Pomfrey was, for the first time while holding a number of people, found in complete and utter silence. Harry Potter sat with his back to everyone in the room alongside the bed of his best friend, Hermione Granger. Most of his face was cast in shadow and gave the impression to anyone that looked at him that his face was no longer his own. This wasn't helped by the many changes that Harry had finished going through in the last months – his face was more angular and thinner, his lips themselves had become quite thin, and his hair had become much more manageable. It saw on his head now without sticking up in all directions unless he ran his hands through it which had become a habit for him quite like it had been for his step-father, James Potter. One of the few things that had not changed about Harry, since finding out that Severus Snape was in fact his father, was the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead that was evidence enough for anyone that saw him that he was Harry Potter – The Chosen One.

The girl in the bed next to Harry was deadly pale. She wasn't breathing but instead lay as still as a statue looking much like she had when she had been petrified by the Basilisk in her second year at Hogwarts, though she too had changed since that year. She was on her back, eyes closed, her pale white hands folded together neatly atop the red and gold blanket that had been placed on her to offer the warmth that was clearly unnecessary. Her face was devoid of all color and if Harry had not known better, he would have imagined that Hermione Granger was dead.

"Harry," someone whispered from behind him.

Harry ignored the whisper and stood up. He walked to stand right beside Hermione and settled one of his hands atop Hermione's, running his thumb across the smooth skin of her hand. He lingered there, looking down at her for a long moment, wishing that she wasn't there on that bed looking cold and lifeless, and then after a moment, knowing that he would be stupid to continue his visit, he stood and turned to face the other occupants of the room.

The Twins, Bill, Mr. Weasley, Faye, Fleur, Tonks, and Remus were all waiting for him silently – they would be serving as his guard for the day. Usually he was allowed to leave his house to visit Hermione – something he made sure to do at least once a week – but as it was his birthday, everyone had agreed that he would need the extra protection just in case. Harry hadn't argued but simply gone along with it, in fact more than any of the others, he expected something was going to happen even if it didn't happen somewhere in his vicinity. He had been feeling like that all day, and was more than sure that he was right. It didn't help, he had decided over breakfast, that memories of his last birthday were plaguing him. What could happen during this one, his coming of age? Would he find out that he had a long lost brother or sister? Or better yet, was Lily Potter not even his mother? He knew that wasn't what would happen, but more than three people would lose their lives this time around.

As Harry offered Remus a small smile, his mind took him back to his last birthday. His memory depicted well the feeling of complete and utter surprise and shock that had come over him after he had read James' letter. He remembered the worry over what all of this information entailed, and about Snape's reaction to the news.

His and Snape's relationship, thought it had started rocky – what with their past – had gotten better over time. It had happened slowly and soon they had been entirely comfortable with each other. They had talked about so many things during his lessons with him, or just during the time they had spent together in the summer and afterwards. They had never really had the kind of relationship that a father and son should have had, but they had begun a friendship if anything and while some things had obviously been completely taboo and never brought up, what they had talked about had never been too awkward after those first weeks living together. It had been after Christmas that things had changed in a small sense, and Harry knew that might have only had something to do with the Horcruxes. Harry had never once mentioned them to Snape, even though he had been aware that Snape knew about them. Snape had never brought them up either, and the topic had been left alone without either of them perusing it as a topic of conversation.

However, it had been after the Malfoy incident that everything had changed for them, and as much as Harry had wished to talk to him and get back to the way things had been but so much had changed by that point. Harry had even recognized Snape as one more adult that didn't care for him, and then Snape had betrayed the Order and Harry by killing Dumbledore and had basically proven Harry's point, thought Harry had not exactly wished that his father had.

It had been a devastating loss, and Harry still stood by the promise he had made to both Dumbledore and Faye. He would avenge Dumbledore – even if it meant killing his father. Severus Snape would pay for depriving the world of the greatest wizard the world had known.

After his declaration, Faye had brought out her wand, and waved it at Dumbledore's body, while wiping away tears, and the body had been lifted into the air.

"Come, Harry," Faye had muttered, and then led him, with an arm around his shoulders back to the school, Dumbledore's body floating in front of them.

Shock had befallen him then and Harry had lost track of time, and before he knew it, he had been pushed into one of the cots in the hospital wing by Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, who had also taken his cloak, and his shoes, and transfigured his clothes into pajamas. He had barely noticed Ron's unconscious body, or for that matter Hermione who was sitting up in the bed next to his, looking at him worriedly. He hadn't seen the small first year that Madame Pomfrey was handing a potion to. He didn't see a shocked Tonks, pale white, looking at Remus in a strange expression of mixed emotions. He had noticed nothing and no one had said a thing to him, after they saw Dumbledore's dead body.

He had woken up hours later to hear a loud argument. The first thing he noticed was that Ron, Ginny, and the twins had their ears pressed to the door, as if they couldn't hear anything that was being shouted from the other side. Harry heard the rustling of sheets from somewhere next to him and found Hermione, sitting up in her own cot, with a book propped open on her lap, completely in her own world, ignoring the three Weasleys.

"I want to see him," Ginny said.

It was then that Harry realized that it was not in fact their ears that were pressed against the door, but instead their faces, as if they could see through the door. Harry would bet his arm that they probably could and it was due to something the twins had created.

"What's going on?" Harry had managed to ask, then.

"Harry!" Ginny shouted and ran from the door towards him. "Are you alright? Everyone's going to be happy you're awake! No one knows what happened yet. That blond woman explained a bit, and Hagrid said something about Snape and Malfoy but he wasn't being coherent enough. Aragog died last night, you see, so he's a bit distraught."

"I think he's really infuriating her now," Fred said with a laugh, looking up from being pressed up against the door. "Oh, hey, Harry, looking better than last night!"

"Who's out there?" Harry asked.

"Oh, just Scrimgeour," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes, closing her book. "He wants to speak with you but Professor McGonagall is arguing against it. Apparently he's been sending letters nearly weekly to Professor Dumbledore to allow him to see you, but of course Dumbledore kept him away, but now that Dumbledore is dead, well, he thought he would have a better chance to see you, and he was here to talk to McGonagall anyway. He tried to sneak into the hospital wing, but Professor McGonagall managed to catch him. Anyway, what happened last night? How are you? Where were you?"

"He does not want to see you!" Professor McGonagall's shrill voice was carried into the room.

Harry ignored it and looked at Hermione, and didn't answer. "What happened here?" He asked instead.

"Oh, well, there was a fight," Hermione said.

Harry shot her a dubious glance. She smiled back.

"Alright," Hermione said. "Well, really it was not that exciting. We were in the wrong place at the wrong time and we had to help out. No one knew how they got in, or for that matter where Dumbledore had gone. It was all a mess but we held our own, and then some of them left, going up to the tower, and I guess that was where you were. Snape went up there too. I guess one of them killed Dumbledore—" she trailed off.

Harry didn't bother telling her that it had been Snape who killed him, and that he had watched as the greatest wizard in the world had begged for his life. Instead, Harry got out of bed, put on his glasses for the sake of his friends and transfigured his pajamas into his school robes, and then he paced across the room, hoping that Scrimgeour would leave so he could go somewhere to think about everything that had happened the night before. It all had just flooded into his brain and he found a deep pain that he knew no one would understand. He had been betrayed by someone he had trusted.

"Alright, I'm ready to go I guess," Harry said to his guard, thoughts of the day after Dumbledore's murder still plaguing him, though he tried to push them back. Not even Occlumency helped in hiding from himself and his thoughts on this day.

He felt Faye's hand come to rest on his shoulder. "She'll be alright, Harry. We are so close to finding some way to bring her back."

Harry nodded, but knew that even if she was brought back it wouldn't make a difference. She couldn't change what had happened and what he would have to do to stop the war. Only he and Snape knew about the prophecy now – knew it to its entirety. Lucius and Remus knew about the Horcruxes, but weren't aware of Harry's knowledge on the subject, and of course so did Snape. There were so many things that he was keeping secret and so many things that he had to do. Hermione without a doubt would be okay as long as she had Faye to look after her, especially after he left.

The curse Hermione was under had been created by Snape, from what Harry had learned from Lucius Malfoy. From what he understood, it basically ate up her organs from the inside, killing her slowly and painfully. The process took two to three months, and within that time the victim was in constant pain and nothing would help to appease it. Faye had been the one to place her in the petrified state the moment they had figured out what the matter was, but it was taking too long to find a counter spell, or a potion that could reverse the effects, and if they took much longer than a year, there would be no helping Hermione. It was ironic that with the help of Hermione they probably would have already found it. From the very beginning of helping Faye in the library researching anything and everything Harry had felt as if he knew what could save her, but the answer had never come to him.

He remembered the day they had found out about the curse.

Only two days after Harry left the Hospital Wing to the confines of the room of requirement, which as it turned out was the only place anyone ever left him alone – for the most part because they couldn't get in – that Hermione collapsed. Harry had just left Headmistress McGonagall's office – where she had questioned him for what had been the third time, on the reason for why he and Dumbledore had left the school – when he saw Hermione. He had been contemplating the fact that he wouldn't answer Professor McGonagall's endless questions and how they had reminded him of the Horcrux which he knew was still sitting in his robes pocket in the room of requirement. He had meant to get a good look at since first taking it from Dumbledore, and then afterwards, the first time McGonagall had spoken to him, but hadn't gotten a chance to. He had been making his way back to the room of requirement to do just that before something else distracted him, when he saw Hermione walking calmly towards him.

He knew she had been looking awfully pale since he had seen her after the incident at the tower, but when he spotted her at that moment she looked tired, too thin, and scarily like she had just seen the most frightful thing in the world. Her eyes were wide open, and she was completely devoid of all color. She was hugging herself and looked as if she was going to collapse at any second. Harry rushed towards her, just as she let out a pain filled yelp.

"Hermione!" He called. "Are you alright? What happened?"

She didn't answer. Instead she tried to cough, and then seemingly disoriented, she wobbled on her feet and fell to the floor with a thump.

Harry ran to her side, and knelt next to her, reaching for her wrist. He could still feel her pulse which wasn't faint at all, and he could see her chest rising and falling. If it were not for the way she looked or for that matter the fact that she had just fainted, Hermione could have easily been asleep, Harry thought as he without a second thought, scooped her up effortlessly into his arms, making sure that her head was supported against his shoulder.

He took her as fast as he could down to the Hospital Wing, glad to not meet anyone in the halls. The students were still at Hogwarts and would be for another two days for Dumbledore's funeral. A few of them had left the school, having been picked up by their parents, but they would be back for the funeral. Lessons were no longer taking place, however, and all end of the year exams but the O.W.L.s and the N.E.W.T.s examinations were to take place. Harry had been quite surprised at Hermione's lack of response to the news when they had been told, but he had pegged it to the fact that she had come to understand that there truly was a war out there. Now, he wondered if it was because of something to do with the spell that Ginny had told him Hermione had been hit by.

Harry followed Mr. Weasley and Faye who were conversing about the recent happenings at the ministry.

"—he must be," Faye said.

"We cannot be sure," Mr. Weasley said. "We can't do anything until we are completely sure."

She nodded thoughtfully.

Behind him Harry heard Fred and George whispering to each other about some grand scheme they were planning, for a moment Harry considered joining them, but decided it would be best to keep away from the two troublemakers. Walking right in front of him were Tonks and Remus who had been acting odd for a while now. Sometimes Tonks was smiling for no reason at all, and the moment she saw Remus she would frown and leave the room, but Harry was sure they weren't having any problems with their marriage or each other – the two of them were as loving as ever, it was just that something else had happened and it was affecting them. Fleur and Bill walked together in silence, sometimes saying a word here or there to add to Mr. Weasley and Faye's conversation about the ministry. Harry walked among them without saying a word, glad that he wasn't being pressed for answers about that night two months before which Harry had done his best to tell the order about while keeping a few things to himself. The last time he had received a question on the matter had actually been during the double wedding for Remus and Tonks, and Bill and Fleur.

It had been strange to feel happy for someone in the midst of all the tragedy that surrounded him. Dumbledore was dead. Hermione was in a petrified state waiting for a cure. Harry's biological father had killed Dumbledore. Voldemort was practically immortal. Harry had no one to share his troubles with. Harry shook his head, trying to forget how Mrs. Weasley had tried to weasel something out of Harry that night, this being the first time she saw him since the Order meeting in which Harry had recounted what he could of the night that Hogwarts' greatest headmaster had died.

"We can't use the floo, you said?" Harry asked, having heard that earlier but not really registered the fact.

"Nor any other form of magical transportation," Mr. Weasley confirmed and didn't add what they were all thinking, that it would have been easier if Harry hadn't wanted to go see his friend.

Harry disagreed. Now that he had seen her one last time, he could leave Grimmauld Place without feeling the guilt of not having seen Hermione one last time. The danger of going to see her didn't matter, because he knew he would be putting himself into even more danger when he left in search of the Horcruxes. The idea had been cemented into his head – and he knew only Hermione could have talked him out of it – the moment he had finally looked at the locket that had served as one of the reasons Dumbledore was dead, the other being his father.

It had happened when he was sitting with Hermione the day they had figured out what was plaguing her. Faye had just put her under the spell to stop her suffering and had gone to try and find if Lucius had kept any notes on the spell that could help. Harry alone had remained in the Hospital Wing with Hermione, ignoring everything around him, knowing that it didn't make a difference anyway. He had reached into his pocket absentmindedly and begun fingering the locket. He had brought it out, hoping that no one would come in and see it.

He had brought it up close to his face to examine it, and then he had noticed it. The serpentine S was nowhere to be found. This wasn't Slytherin's locket. It couldn't be. He reached to open it, and quickly did, and out fell a folded piece of paper. Harry let it fall to the ground, knowing now that this was clearly not a Horcrux, and that more than that, Dumbledore had died in vain because they had not in fact gotten a Horcrux but instead only a fake.

The note had been for Voldemort, Harry had discovered when he had finally gotten the courage to pick it up and read it, addressed from someone with the initials R.A.B., the note had read:

_To the Dark Lord_

_I know I will be long dead before you read this_

_but I want you to know hat it was I who discovered your secret._

_I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can._

_I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,_

_you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B_

No one knew that he was going to leave the next morning. He had decided to wait until his seventeenth birthday, so he could at the most, claim that he was an adult and had a right to make his own choices. He wondered how they would all see it – if they would think that he was running away. He needed to figure out what he was going to do, and he had decided he needed to begin where it had all begun and that was Godric's Hollow. There was bound to be something there that could help him – he just knew there had to be. It was a gut feeling.

"So muggle transportation?" One of the twins asked, Harry was almost sure it was Fred.

"Not, quite," Mr. Weasley said.

"Then what?" The other twin, this time Harry was sure that it was Fred, asked.

"Brooms," Faye answered. "Brooms are hardly ever traceable. We're flying just to one of the safe houses, not far off. We will be partly under the protection of the Hogwarts' wards. We will be flying above the Forbidden Forest for half an hour, and then we will reach the end of the wards. Another half an hour from there is where we will find the safe house. It is one of the better hidden ones if I do say so myself, however, magic is not allowed anywhere within its grounds."—She stopped to look directly at the twins—"Magic will attract more than just Death Eaters where we are going."

"Then why go there?" Fleur asked as if she too had just learned the plan, and Harry was sure that she probably just had.

Faye didn't answer this time but instead Remus did, "Flying from here directly to the Burrow would not only be strenuous, but it would get us noticed easily and they are bound to be up to something today. What they did last year to Harry's relatives was only a small show of what Voldemort could do, and he's already named Harry's birthday as one of those days for his"—here he used air quotes for the next word—"celebrations."

Without further conversation they stepped out of the school, and Harry wondered when he would be back within its halls. He knew he wasn't going to come back for his seventh year, and he was completely unsure as to how long it would take him to hunt down Voldemort's Horcruxes, or if he would even manage to do that without losing his life.

Harry shook those thoughts out of his head and instead reached into his robes pocket, and pulled out his firebolt. He tapped it once with his wand and watched it grow, knowing now the reason Faye had insisted he bring his broom.

Tonks had done the same to her broom, as had Fred and George. Faye had just brought out her shrunken broom, and was tapping it, while Fleur, Remus, and Bill shot up into the air, seemingly to look around for anything strange and unusual that could hurt them on their try. Once the rest had gotten an okay from them, they joined them in the air, Faye flying to the front with Remus while Tonks hovered right above Harry. Bill and Fleur taking up the rear, while Fred and Gorge flew on either side of Harry and Mr. Weasley took to flying right underneath him. It reminded Harry heavily of when he had first been taken to Grimmauld Place back in his fifth year, and of course of his meeting with the metamorphmagus witch that had come to mean a lot to one of his friends.

The wind and his robes flapping around him was a comfort, and even though he had given up Quidditch and doubted he would play the sport until Voldemort was truly and finally gone, Harry knew he would miss flying, which was not something he would also be doing any time soon. He knew it wasn't the best way to travel and with the measures he had taken to make sure he was untraceable, apparition would work much better as much as he hated the feeling of being compressed.

**Author's Note: **This chapter basically summed up everything that happened in the last three months...and I guess it does leave a lot open but those three months were really unimportant other than the few things that Harry did mention. Chapter two will most likely be up next weekend Friday or Saturday. Any questions are of course welcome and thank you for reading. Please review.

-Erika


	2. A Birthday Gift

**Author's Note: **I really like this chapter. So far it might be one of my favorites. It just flowed so well. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews, as always they were appreciated and enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, and Imogen.

**_Chapter Two  
_**

_A Birthday Gift_

_July 31, 1998_

Harry had not been expecting a party when they arrived at the Burrow. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had simply said they wanted to have some sort of dinner in honor of his coming of age, and Harry who at first had protested that it wasn't necessary had finally given in to her, when his decision to leave had been completely cemented into his brain, and he had decided that this would make a for a nice good-bye party in which no one but he knew that he was saying good-bye. What worried Harry most was that if something were to happen it would happen that day and it would affect the Weasleys because he was with them.

As it was, when Harry stepped out of their fireplace in the kitchen, following Remus, he didn't expect to see a congregation of his friends from Gryffindor, and everyone that had been in the D.A. back in fifth year. The only person that seemed to be missing other than Hermione, was Imogen, and Harry couldn't think of any reason other than that her parents had not allowed her to attend. Among the Hogwarts students, and graduates like Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood, were the Order members, some of whom Harry had only ever met once, if at all. Harry decided then, when spotting Dedalus Diggle who he had only ever held a conversation with once, that this was an elaborate meeting of the people in Harry's life who were all in some way working against Voldemort.

After remarking to Remus that he really could have done without so many people, he began to politely greet everyone, shaking hands here, being pulled into hugs by others – like Katie Bell who grinned at Harry afterwards and began relating to him that she had been very excited to have been invited to his party. Others shared the same sentiment.

"I'm telling you!" Dedalus Diggle exclaimed to a tall graceful man with brown hair that was held back by a leather band, and piercing warm amber eyes. "That man has done nothing to help the—" he trailed off upon spotting Harry. "Oh, hello, Mr. Potter, a pleasure to meet you again, I'm sure. But you must not know Sawyer. Harry Potter, this is Sawyer Argentum."

"Hello," Harry said, extending out his hand, "pleased to meet you."

Sawyer took his hand in a good grip and shook it. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Potter," he said in a gruff voice.

Harry nodded and then turned to continue greeting his guests. Sawyer looked after him for a while and then turned back to his conversation.

By the time Harry had said hello to everyone in the room, some form of dancing had begun, and Harry tried hard to not get pulled out there. Mrs. Weasley, he knew, had been trying to get him to dance with Ginny whom Harry spotted dancing with Seamus.

Harry was actually having a good time by this point. He had talked to a few Order members that he knew had been quite impressed by all of his knowledge which Harry hated knowing had been imparted to him by, of all people, Severus Snape. He had also talked to Oliver Wood and Angelina who were both now playing Quidditch professionally but were having problems because of the issue of Voldemort. That had led to them talking about Angelina and Oliver wanting to be part of the Order.

"Hey, mate," Ron said, handing him a bottle of butterbeer a few minutes later.

Harry took it with a grin and they clinked their bottles together. "So, how're you liking the party? Ginny and I had to track everyone down. It was horrible," Ron said. "All those letters we had to write – my hand's been cramping up for days."

Harry laughed, but didn't respond.

Ron continued, "We haven't seen each other since the end of the year. Mom hasn't really wanted us to come bother you and Faye while you work on finding a cure for Hermione. How's that going anyway?"

"Faye's sure she's on the right track," Harry said and ran a hand through his hair. He shifted his feet, and looked around the Weasley's yard. "I don't know. I just feel like she's never going to wake up and it will all be my fault."

"Ah, mate, you can't blame yourself for this one," Ron said, throwing an arm around Harry. "You didn't let them in – you were trying to help Dumbledore."

Harry nodded and took a gulp of his drink.

About an hour later, when Harry was pushed towards a table piled with presents, everything changed – his scar began to burn. The pain was dull and throbbing but Harry recognized it for what it was and knew almost immediately what it meant – that something had happened, or something was going to happen.

Harry ignored the pain and pushed it to the back of his mind and threw on a smile for the rest to see. He didn't need to worry them. As soon as he got the chance, he would tell someone about his scar – Remus, Tonks, or Faye preferably.

The presents that littered the table were wrapped in a multitude of colors. Harry didn't know where to start off first, until Ginny grabbed one of the smaller boxes and handed it to him. "That's from Fred and George, I think," Ginny said.

"I don't know if I should open it," Harry said with a small somewhat forced laugh.

Ginny smiled at him, and motioned at him to go on. Harry ripped the paper off and found inside a small unidentified box though it gave the impression to everyone that it was one of their products.

"Just something we thought you'd need," Fred said, coming to stand next to Harry, and shoving Ginny unceremoniously away.

Ginny huffed at her older brothers, hit Fred hard on the arm and walked to stand next to her mother. Fred rubbed at the spot on his arm with a wince. George laughed at him.

"Anyway," George continued, "they're new products, all constructed to get you out of a tough spot."

Harry nodded and turned to the rest of his presents, putting that one on the table. He opened one from Lavender Brown, and found a small pygmy puff sitting in a small cage fast asleep on a pillow.

He smiled fondly at it and for a moment forgot the pain until it began anew. This time his scar throbbed and burned. Harry closed his eyes as the world began to spin and turn upside down and reached for the table. He held on to it and then everything seemed to stop and he knew without a doubt that something was wrong. He opened his eyes and found Ginny, standing next to him, looking at him with worry.

"Are you alright Harry?" She asked.

Harry nodded. "Fine," he said. "I'll be fine. Get Remus, will you?"

Ginny nodded and ran into the crowd to find Remus.

"You're sure you're not in any sort of pain, mate?" Fred, or was it George, asked.

"You look awful pale," the other twin added.

"And your hair's actually lying flat for once," George, Harry was sure this time, said. "You aren't sick are you?"

Harry smiled slightly and shook his head at them. "Really, guys, I'm fine. My scar burned, that's all. It stopped just as soon as it came."

The twins both stopped grinning and joking. "You mean something must have happened?" Fred asked from Harry's left.

"My birthday present, isn't it? Right on time, too, if you ask me, right as I was opening my presents," Harry said bitterly.

Just as Remus, followed by Tonks and Faye made their way towards them and the table full of presents, a silver figure came into the yard, coming to a stop right where Harry could see him, but so that it was standing somewhere in the middle of all of the guests to his party. The music that had been streaming from Mrs. Weasley's wireless as background music came to a stop suddenly and the caracal Patronus opened its feline mouth and began to speak, the voice of an undistinguished man spoke out to the crowd.

-

-

-

It was chaos.

There was fire, and smoke. Pools of blood turned brown as they dried into the remaining floor and walls. Someone laughed; another screamed. Someone was running – a scampering of feet looking for somewhere to hide.

"Find them," a cold voice hissed, snakelike, but full of excitement. "Bring them to me alive."

There was more shuffling of feet – his Death Eaters going after those few people that had escaped them and their path of destruction. Imogen Copperfield hoped beyond hope that they wouldn't find her. She was well hidden in the unused hidden compartment in the corner of the Minister of Magic's office, where she had run the moment everything began. Tears stained her face and she tried to keep her hands from shaking while she looked out at Voldemort and his two remaining Death Eaters, sitting in the office as if nothing was the matter.

"Is there anything on Potter here?" Voldemort asked.

The silky recognizable voice of her Potions professor responded with, "Few things. I believe Alecto went in search of anything on transportation as well as anything of the Order's that has been protected by the Ministry."

Imogen knew that it had been Snape that had killed Dumbledore. She knew that Snape had betrayed everyone, but seeing him there, talking to Voldemort bothered her much more than knowing that he was a murderer. She had liked Professor Snape, as much as someone could like a man that snapped at everything everyone said. She had never expected him to be on Voldemort's side, though there had been rumors about the matter.

"Good. Good," Voldemort said.

They then fell into silence.

Imogen shifted slightly in the small dark space, listening intently. She heard footsteps nearing the room. The office was spacious. A large wooden desk sat right in the middle of the room, across from a large fireplace and a door. A few paintings hung on the blue colored walls, as well as a window displaying a nice sunny day.

Voldemort was currently seated behind the desk, ignoring the piles of paper work that were scattered all over the desk, with large puddles of ink covering some of them. Across from him, sitting in comfortable armchairs were his two Death Eaters, Severus Snape and a woman that looked as if she had just left a psychiatric ward.

The room was no longer what Imogen had first perceived when she had headed in there to hide, now there was the faint smell of blood coming from where the Minister of Magic's body had previously been. His formerly clean cream carpet was now mostly brown, and the walls where his hands had been placed had also left an imprint of the crimson liquid, and more than that, there was debris and broken objects littering the floor. And this, Imogen imagined, was probably the room most intact in the entire ministry. She gave the scorch marks on the door a small glance, and knew that out in the hall there was a fire. She had seen it when the Death Eaters had left.

"And Hogwarts shall fall next," Voldemort said with a cold laugh. "Severus, I'd like you to become the Headmaster of the school. Hmm. Yes. I think that will serve nicely. You can continue keeping an eye on Malfoy in the meanwhile – that boy is almost as much trouble as his father."

"Yes, My Lord. You please me with such a bequest," Snape said, bowing his head.

"Ah, but you have done me good, Severus," Voldemort said, "much more than I expected, I'll admit."

Snape said nothing in return, but the witch next to him cackled.

"And you Bellatrix. My most loyal, even if you are associated with a bunch of blood traitors."

Bellatrix looked affronted. "I have no ties with such people," she said.

"You do not," Voldemort agreed, but there was something underlying his tone of voice as he said it.

No one spoke again for a few minutes, and then the door opened and a masked man entered, holding a petite woman, whom he threw to the ground without care.

"Hiding in a closet, this one was," the Death Eater rasped.

Voldemort gave him a dismissing wave and then turned to the woman as soon as the door had closed behind the Death Eater.

-

-

-

_The Ministry has fallen...everything is in shambles right now. Be prepared for a fight. No one knows what's happening. It's chaos down here…I've just heard the Minister is dead. So are a number of the workers. No one knows how many. Death Eaters are everywhere. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is within the falling building._

No one knew what to say. There were gasps around the garden. Mrs. Weasley was the first to react, clapping her hands to her mouth, exclaiming something too low for Harry to hear and running into the house once again.

By this point everyone had turned to each other – friends were clasping hands with worried looks on their faces. A few screamed and others looked as if they wanted to join them but couldn't quite make a sound.

"My mum's at the ministry," Harry heard Lavender Brown mutter to Ron in a defeated voice.

That seemed to give others a new thing to think about – everyone knew at least someone that had to be in the Ministry right at that moment working or doing something else.

"Oh!" Cried Susan Bones, "My Aunt!"

Other such expressed sentiments went on all around not only from the Hogwarts students or recent graduates but from Order members, lamenting for their children, friends, or even parents.

"Everyone please be calm," Remus said loudly, pointing his wand at his throat. "It is best to be calm right now while everything is being sorted. For the moment the wards around the property are being strengthened by the Aurors we have present, and we will begin to evacuate everyone to Hogwarts. Until we know what is happening no one should leave the Castle."

Everyone listened to Remus and then began to mutter amongst themselves. Remus turned back to Harry and ended the spell to make his voice louder.

"You're alright, correct?" He asked.

"Yes. I'm fine," Harry said, and then asked, "How are we getting so many people to Hogwarts?"

"That is where we come in," Fred said, answering for Remus. "We've been working on it for a while and we've been trying to make at least a few more before actually using one, but really they're for emergencies."

"We developed this product, you see, that will allow large transportation of people, instantly. Like apparition but essentially traceless. It's like placing a blanket that hides your magical identity so that you can do anything, but also connecting a number of people so they can travel without being detected," George finished explaining for his brother.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Brilliant," he said.

"We'll go start setting up," Fred said and pulled his brother away.

"Come with me, Harry," Faye said.

Harry had forgotten that she come to see him about his scar, and nearly jumped when he heard her voice. She smiled at him sardonically and then motioned for them to go into the house.

"What?" Harry asked as she dragged him into the kitchen.

"We have to be prepared for an attack," she said. "If Fred and George don't get that ready in time, we'll have to fight, and I want to give you something."

Harry knew it was a possibility, and wondered what Faye could possibly want with him.

Harry frowned. "What is it?" He asked.

"A second wand," she said, "and a portkey, just in case they do attack and you get hurt. I don't expect you to run. That isn't you. I do expect you to leave the moment you are hit by anything. To activate it, you must simply want to leave and hold it in your hand. You can take anyone else with you but no more than two more people. It will take you to Grimmauld Place. Lucius is there, so you'll be safe."

She suddenly took him into her arms. Harry allowed himself to wrap his arms around her thin waist, and then she was pulling away, taking his face with her slim hands.

"Use the second wand at all times. Your wand is too important to lose right now. This wand is as close to yours as we've been able to find. Lucius and I have been working on this for a while now. It was – well…we really mustn't dawdle. We should be helping out there."

Harry tried to nod, but she still held his face. She smiled slightly and wrapped her arms around him again. Harry felt a certain amount of calmness come over him as she hugged him. It was the power of her hug, he decided, the caring that she had for him which had taken place since the night she healed Snape after that terrible meeting with Voldemort. She had become a friend and she had helped him so much recently that he had even decided that when he left she was the one he would miss the most.

"I know you were planning on leaving tomorrow, Harry," she whispered.

Harry's eyes widened. "How? I – I thought I hid it so well."

Faye chuckled. "You've been saying good-bye all week. I am not going to stop you. I think you've decided you need to do this, but in light of recent events, Harry, please wait until we know everything about this situation."

Harry knew she was right. He nodded. He couldn't very well leave now, not knowing exactly how much power Voldemort had over the ministry and if he would be the outlaw running from the ministry if he left. He needed to stay for the time being and help as much as he could to make sure that everything would be okay.

The Death Eaters arrived, popping into existence right outside the barriers of protection surrounding the Burrow. Harry noticed them at once, when he heard someone scream, pointing at the masked, robed followers of his enemy. For a second Harry allowed himself to wonder if his father was among them, but then he shook the thought, and turned away from them, looking for one of the twins.

"How's it going guys?" He asked.

"Ten minutes," George said rapidly, and turned back to work.

Harry didn't think the wards would hold for longer than five minutes, and he knew better than to use magic to help make them stronger. It was one of the rules that Lucius had instilled with him while they had done some training. His magic had continued growing and changed drastically, but it was a well kept secret. Only Lucius and Faye were aware of it, and he was supposed to keep it to himself until there was no other choice but to display his true power which, Harry knew, would never be as grandiose as Voldemort's.

The wards gave a shudder, and Harry felt a slight bit of panic come over him. If they attacked, how many lives would be lost?

Harry looked around and noticed that Remus had been rearranging everyone in case of an attack. The Order members had been mixed in with the Hogwarts students and they all had their wands out and were talking strategy. Harry made to join them when he heard a muffled cry somewhere from the house. He turned and ran towards the kitchen, and entered. Mrs. Weasley had a hand clapped over her mouth, tears streaming down her face. Ginny's who had run in after Harry ran to her side, and gasped, looking at the clock that Harry knew had to be showing them something horrible.

Harry approached them with caution, and looked up at the clock that didn't tell time. Unlike the last time Harry had seen it, the clock was one hand less. Where there had previously been nine hands, now there were only eight. Knowing that everyone but Charlie and Percy were there at the Burrow, Harry with a heavy heart found that Charlie's hand was pointed at work. It was Percy then that had died, and while Harry had, had his differences with his best friend's older brother, he had never wanted him dead, and now he was, probably because he had been at the Ministry.

"Oh, mum," Ginny whispered.

Harry felt as if he was intruding in something that he had no right to see, and retreated back out of the kitchen to the garden. He said nothing to the questioning looks, and walked directly to Arthur Weasley, not knowing if he should be the one to tell him that his son was dead.

"Mr. Weasley," he said.

"Yes, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked, absentmindedly. "Is everything alright inside?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Not quite," he said gently. "I think it would be best if you went inside. I don't want to be the one to have to tell you. I – Mrs. Weasley needs you."

Mr. Weasley gave Harry an odd look, but hurried inside. Harry looked around the garden, spotting Bill helping Tonks and Kingsley with holding up the wards. He saw Fred and George still attempting to get their unnamed product ready for the transportation of so many people. Ron was still with Lavender, offering her comfort, telling her that her mother was okay. None of them knew that their brother was dead, and that as much as they had become tired of him in the last years and as much as they had disagreed with his choice of a career over family, that they would care about the fact that he had left the world to never return.

The wards finally fell two minutes or so later. Harry watched it happen and was tempted – when looking at so many of his friends and knowing that they would be in danger – to throw it back up. As it was, he merely withdrew his wand and prepared himself for the fight.

Colorful flashes of light flew all around – spells flying at everyone and everything. Tonks, Remus, Faye, Kingsley, and Mad-Eye had put themselves as a barrier between the twins and the fight, keeping most spells from going past them to touch the twins or their magical contraption. Harry watched for a few seconds, ignored in the crowds of people, and then he was pushed hard to the ground. He heard a crack, and knew his glasses had broken.

He gathered them and slipped them into his pocket, turning, wand raised to begin dueling, but no Death Eater approached him looking for a fight.

What was happening? Why were they leaving him be? Harry didn't have time to continue his train of thought, as he saw a laughing Death Eater throw the Cruciatus at Dean, who had just been hit by a tripping hex. Acting quickly, Harry threw a stunning spell at the Death Eater and he fell back, his curse going astray and hitting an old car tire.

"Thanks!" Dean shouted.

Harry grinned at him and then turned, waving his wand at another Death Eater, who blocked his spell and shot one at Harry of his own.

"_Incarcerous!_" Harry shouted, but the Death Eater moved at the last moment and muttered something that made Harry's spell simply end.

The Death Eater waved his wand without saying a word and a ball of fire came directly at Harry.

"_Aguamenti," _Harry whispered, but the jet of water that was shot at the ball of flame did nothing to it. The Death Eater laughed.

Harry moved aside quickly to let the ball of fire pass him by, but it followed him coming right at him. Harry tried another spell, shooting ice at it, trying to cover the entire ball will ice. The Death Eater laughed at him again through the mask. There had to be something more to it – there just had to be something. Harry thought hard. What else could stop fire?

"It's ready!" Harry heard the twins call from somewhere around him. He couldn't concentrate.

Harry continued dodging the ball of fire, and as he did he noticed everyone trying to make their way to the twins. It was then that Harry saw what he had to do. He had to make a big enough distraction that would allow the twins to take everyone to Hogwarts. He had the Portkey Faye had given him and if anything else, he could apparate. He would use the fire to his advantage – if he could just make it bigger somehow.

**Author's Note: **Hope you liked this. Next chapter will probably be up next Friday. Please review.

-Erika


	3. Waiting

**Author's Note: **Definitely like how this one turned out. Thanks for all the reviews, guys, enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, and Imogen.

**_Chapter Three  
_**

_Waiting_

_July 31, 1998_

Imogen woke up. She had been drifting in and out of sleep for the past number of hours, waking when the door to the office opened, allowing in Death Eaters that most of the time carried in one or two ministry officials that had been found hiding, or that had not been aware of the fact that the Ministry had been under attack. Every time one more was brought in, Voldemort talked to them. Afterwards, he would send them back out of the room with his Death Eaters, and Imogen knew that only half of them survived. Twice he had killed them right on the spot without warning. Their bodies had been removed an instant later and it had been as if it hadn't happened at all.

Voldemort had sent a large group of his Death Eaters out, minutes before she had fallen asleep the last time. She had seen a large group of them pile into the room, and Voldemort telling them calmly that they were to go to the Burrow where they would find Harry Potter and bring him to him. Imogen hoped beyond anything, that Harry wouldn't be captured, and more than that, that no one got hurt at the Burrow.

Imy changed her position in her hiding place, making it easier for her to see out at the office. Snape and Bellatrix were no longer there, but now Voldemort had been joined by an enormous snake that sat by the now lit fireplace, fast asleep. In Imy's opinion there couldn't have been a more beautiful animal anywhere.

Moving back to her previous spot in the hole, Imy tried hard to not make a noise. It was just as she was doing this that the whole building shook. Imy slipped slightly and a moment later something cold and sharp cut into the skin right above her ankle. She couldn't help the small whimper, as hard as she tried to keep herself from making a noise that could give away her hiding place. She tried to settle herself back into place all the while trying to not make a noise about the pain on her ankle, and trying not to get herself cut on the sharp thing that had cut her before, though she couldn't locate the object.

Out in the office, the snake had woken up, and slithered to her master. Imogen heard it hissing and knew that it was asking what had happened. She wanted to know that exact same thing herself, and waited for an answer, all the while trying to move into a position that allowed her ankle to be in a comfortable enough position so that the throbbing pain could dull a little. She wiped the tears that had run down her cheeks at the pain and nearly jumped when he heard the door to the office open.

"He's escaped, My Lord," the Death Eater announced in a small voice. "They just disappeared."

Imy felt a feeling of relief fall over her. Harry was okay, and she could only hope that if Harry was okay the rest of them were too.

"They just disappeared, all of them," the Death Eater continued. "It was just amazing. They entered some sort of circle and they disappeared and then Potter was the only one left, and he practically destroyed the entire house escaping. And then just as we were closing in, he used a portkey, I think, and then he was gone."

Imy could have shouted for joy and jumped around without bothering to notice the pain on her right ankle from just hearing that if anyone had been hurt at least they had not been taken by the Death Eaters.

And then, there was a scream.

Imy hit her head when she jumped at the scream, and groaned slightly, rubbing at her head. The little amount of space she had for movement was really becoming a nuisance and Imogen hoped that Voldemort would leave the room soon and she could somehow escape, but her outlook for that was bad. She had tried not to really think about it much, but now that the thought had settled on her mind, she couldn't ignore it. Here she was, a twelve year old girl, with only a year of schooling under her belt, hiding in small hole off of a room that seemed to now belong to Lord Voldemort, of all people.

Tears began to run down her cheeks with the realization that this could only mean death. Her hiding there, listening to everything they were planning would mean death and all she was doing was prolonging it, but sooner or later they would find her and when they did they would kill her.

The screaming stopped a second later, and Voldemort was sending the man away. He practically ran out of the room and Voldemort laughed after him. He'd probably laugh after he killed her too.

-

-

-

Lucius was pacing when Harry arrived at Twelve Grimmauld Place, and practically threw himself at Harry.

"What happened, boy?" He asked.

"The ministry fell," Harry said, "Voldemort finally took it over." He wiped dirt from his hand and took his mud covered cloak off, throwing it to the ground without a bother.

"Where's everyone else? Is anyone hurt?" Lucius asked, immediately, his eyes wide – a perfect show of emotion that Harry would never have expected to see from the blond Slytherin.

What he was really asking, Harry realized, as he made to answer, was if Faye was alright. Harry was not entirely certain, but he was more than sure there were no casualties. However, someone could have gotten hurt. Harry hoped beyond anything, that no one had been seriously hurt.

"They're all at Hogwarts," Harry said. "There was no way I could go with them without it taking longer, so I distracted them. I destroyed most of the Burrow doing so, but in the meanwhile they left, and then used the Portkey, and I came here. I'm not sure if anyone was seriously hurt, but I hope not."

Lucius nodded and sighed. "So, we're stuck here waiting for news, then."

Harry laughed. "I guess so. Every floo channel is probably being watched, waiting for one us to make that mistake. I wish more than anything that I could contact them."

"Game of chess?" Lucius asked.

When Harry frowned at him he shrugged. "What else can we do? We can't just sit here."

Harry imagined that, yes, he could just sit there and contemplate the fact that one of those Death Eaters could have been his father. He could just sit there and think about the fact that it had been his fault there had been an attack; his fault that he hadn't thought to tell anyone that he knew something was happening. Harry had to continuously remind himself that no one had been killed. After a seconds thought, he began paying attention to the game in earnest, knowing it was better if he tried to keep himself from being lost in his thoughts.

"Ha," Harry said, two games later, having just watched his knight smash Lucius' rook to pieces.

Lucius rolled his eyes at him, and then directed his queen to a different spot. Harry frowned over the game and finally decided on his next move when he heard the door out in the hall open and close. He and Lucius were standing instantly, rushing to see who it was.

Faye took off her light cloak and walked right into Lucius' arms, hugging him. Harry felt awkward standing there, watching them and made to retreat from the room, but Faye quickly stopped him, by taking his arm.

"You're alright, Harry?" She asked.

"Yes, fine. How's everyone else?"

"Shaken, as can be expected," Faye said. "We've asked them all to stay in the castle for the time being. Minerva and Remus are working with Kingsley to try and get a group to go to the Ministry. Apparently from new information, Voldemort has taken the minister's office and basically his Death Eaters are all over it. There are many dead."

Harry nodded solemnly. And this was all because of his birthday. He didn't say this thought aloud, and instead asked, "Is everyone at the ministry dead? I mean all the workers?"

"We can't be sure," Faye said. "But it appears that a large part of the Department of Mysteries was destroyed as well as the Atrium."

The three of them stood there for a few more minutes in silence as if having a small moment to respect everyone that had died, because people had died, and it finally hit Harry hard. Even though no one had been seriously hurt at the Burrow, many probably had been at the Ministry and no one knew for sure. How many parents, sisters, brothers, uncles, or aunts of his fellow students had been killed? How many had survived only to be captured for Voldemort's mindless idea of fun? All for his birthday. And his father was a part of this.

-

-

-

_August 1, 1998_

Harry followed Lucius' pacing form with his eyes, all the while trying to concentrate on Faye who was attempting to instruct him in basic wandless magic.

"Harry, pay attention."

Harry turned to face her. "I can't just sit here," he said with a sigh.

"You have to," Faye told him, turning to look at Lucius who was now muttering to himself as he paced the room.

Faye sighed and glared at him – Lucius didn't seem to notice it. Suddenly, before Harry had even managed to blink, Faye had slammed a book down on the table in front of her. Lucius faltered in step and turned to look at them.

"Sit," Faye demanded, motioning to the chair closest to him. "You're distracting Harry."

Lucius sat down to Harry's amusement. He said nothing to even acknowledge the fact that he had just been ordered to stay still like a bothersome child.

There had been few instances where Harry had seen Lucius Malfoy follow someone else's orders, and even fewer when Faye had given off an aura of absolute power. She was so calm and patient most of the time that, Harry tended to forget that this woman had been held captive by Voldemort or his Death Eaters for sixteen years and still remained sane.

"I guess we aren't going to get much done today," Faye admitted, pursing her lips.

Harry nodded. Now that he didn't have Lucius to focus on, his thoughts landed on the Order members that had gone to the Ministry of Magic earlier that morning. If it had been up to him, he would have gone with them, but even he recognized the fact that his going to the place where Voldemort was said to still be, was a bad idea. He still wanted to know what was going on.

"Chess, Harry?" Faye asked, even though Harry knew she was worse than even Hermione at the game.

He laughed. "I rather learn wandless magic."

"I'm not that bad," Faye said.

"No, really, I rather do wandless magic," Harry said with a small laugh.

It had been by his suggestion that Faye had decided to instruct him in wandless magic and Harry wanted to get out as much as possible before he left to find the Horcruxes.

"Will you pay attention this time?" Faye asked.

"Yes," Harry said and nodded.

Faye sighed. "Alright, let's try this again.

Harry nodded yet again, and this time actually tried hard to pay attention to what Faye was talking about. It was like Occlumency, he had come to realize, from what Faye informed him. It was fluent movement of magic through his body in such a way that he could harness it and extend it from his body as spells.

-

-

-

Remus Lupin gave a short nod directed at his wife, when she smiled at him and entered one of the many unused offices. He continued on, walking down the empty corridor of the Ministry of Magic. The strange quiet emptiness that surrounded him felt entirely too much like the last time that Remus had had to step into the Ministry of Magic. Just like then, he had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. Being in the Ministry alone, brought forth memories that he would have wished to have left behind. The loss of Sirius hung heavily on him while he looked around the scorched, fume covered empty space. Behind him he could hear Emmeline Vance talking to Kingsley Shacklebolt about the remnants of magic that were quite clear to them.

"What about the Minister's office?" Fred Weasley asked from somewhere behind him.

"What about it?"

"Shouldn't someone go take a look at it?" Fred asked.

Remus pursed his lips in the very imitation of Minerva McGonagall. He was very reluctant to lead them down there. From the moment they had entered the Ministry he had known that to go to the Minister's office would be a bad idea.

"Something must be down there," George said, arguing for his brother. "So far, we've found nothing up here."

"He has a good point, Remus," Bill said. "I think the whole Ministry must be searched. I'll go down there myself with these two if that's the way it has to be."

Tonks joined them just as Bill said that, and nodded in agreement. "I'll come too," she said.

Remus sighed. He hadn't mentioned to any of them that he highly suspected Voldemort to still be in the Ministry though the place appeared to be deserted. He had felt a very presence of dark magic the moment he had stepped into the Ministry; he had smelt the painful torturous yet very pulling magic. If Voldemort had remained, Remus knew that he had to have a number of his Death Eaters with him – not that alone he wasn't powerful enough to kill them all.

"If they're gone, as most of what we found tells us, then we shouldn't be worried about anything if we go down there," another voice said from somewhere behind Remus.

Remus knew by this point that he really had no say in whether they would go to the Minister's office or not, but he could do his best to take every precaution possible to keep everyone alive.

"Alright," he said, "but I have a bad feeling about this."

Ten minutes later, found Remus walking with Arthur Weasley under disillusionment charms to the Minister of Magic's office. Remus had only ever had reason to come to this part of the Ministry once in his life, and he remembered only too clearly why. He shook the thought away and instead surveyed the space around him. It was much more destroyed than the upper levels. Whole walls were scorched, and brown dried puddles of blood were everywhere. Debris was littered all over the floor, and a whole wall had fallen in one place that it was a surprise the ceiling hadn't caved in. Other walls were made up of cracks, ready to fall. Those, they tried to keep strengthened enough with magic. With everything looking as it did, Remus had the errant thought that it looked like a small battlefield. The feel of magic about the place that told Remus there had to have been a large amount of magic being used within the last day.

"Something happened here," Tonks whispered. "You can feel it, can't you, Remus?"

Remus merely nodded. They continued on, with Remus straining to hear for any movement in any of the other rooms. And then he heard it: The groaning of a chair; a hiss; a whisper that he couldn't quite make out.

Someone was here or maybe even more than just once person and hopefully that did not involve Voldemort or one Severus Snape.

"Someone's still here," Remus said to the others in a low a whisper as he could.

They all stopped, making out only rough outlines of each other through the disillusionment charm.

"Should we go back?" Emmeline Vance asked.

"No," The gruff voice of Moody answered back.

Remus agreed with him. They were already down there, and if Voldemort was who had stayed with his Death Eaters, then they already knew they were here and there was surely no point in running. This is what he had been afraid of and now they had to deal with it.

"Then what should we do?" Fred asked.

No one had a chance to speak, not that if they had they would have been heard because even if they had whispered, it would have been drowned by the piercing scream coming from somewhere beyond the hall.

-

-

-

It was the blood. Imy wondered how she could have been so stupid. There was a gargantuan snake in the office, and it had woken up, and she hadn't thought about the fact that the snake could very well smell her blood and know that she was there.

It had known she was there the moment she slithered away from her master towards Imy and her hole. She had lifted her head, stuck out her tongue and hissed, _I know you're there human_ before she slithered towards the fire again.

Fear had overcome her there, and she waited for the snake – Nagini, she thought her name was – to say something to her master, but she said nothing.

She had worried over it for the next two hours, sitting unmoving in the hole, tired and with a great need for food and water, her tongue heavy in her mouth due to her lack of hydration. She had fallen asleep hours later, and then woken up once more when she heard the door to the office slam closed.

She had looked up and allowed herself to move to a better position to see out into the office, and at once she realized that some Death Eaters were back. Snape was one of them. The rest, Imy did not recognize, though a shorter figure standing next to Snape with a hood covering his face seemed awfully familiar.

"What shall I do to serve you, My Lord?" Snape asked.

"Take the brat away and teach him, Severus, you always had the affinity to do that, and he seems to have taken a liking to you. Perhaps, you can be the influence that his father was not."

Snape vowed his head and nodded.

"Take your leave now. Both of you! You are of no use to me at the moment."

Snape gave a show vow, and motioned for the shorter figure next to him to do the same and then he grabbed the other by the arm rather tightly and took him out of the room in a brisk walk.

Imy watched as Voldemort talked to the others and sent them off with their own tasks. It was then that she potted the snake. Nagini was coiled by the fire again, though this time she was clearly awake. Imy wondered how long she had fallen asleep for this time, and just how much time exactly had passed since the day of the attack. Nagini seemed to have sensed that she was awake and looked directly her way, challenging her with her feral glance.

Imy shuddered and felt warmth come over her. She stared back at the snake, willing it to say nothing to him even if he was her master. But before the snake could do anything, Voldemort spoke.

"And what, pray tell, are you staring at so intently, Nagini?"

Imy knew his speech was in parseltongue, and waited with breath held for Nagini to tell him that she was there. The snake surprised her by not answering at all. A small amount of joy climbed from the bottom of her chest upwards. She smiled slightly at the snake who gave a small hiss and went back to just sitting in front of the fire.

Voldemort moved in his chair, and Nagini hissed again.

"Someone is here, Nagini," he hissed.

Imy bit her lip hard and clenched her fists. And then she felt something cold touch her, like a breeze, and then she was thrown out into the office. She heard her arm crack, and she couldn't help the cry in pain that she uttered the moment she fell. She didn't dare look up or move, but then he was standing right in front of her, wand raised, ready to kill her. And then the same warmth as before took over her and she screamed.


	4. Grimmauld Place

**Author's Note: **Just a transition chapter really, except we do find out about Imy so that's something...and it might be a cliffy. Thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter and enjoy the chapter.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, and Imogen.

**_Chapter Four_**

_Grimmauld Place  
_

_August 1, 1998_

Harry attempted yet again to control his magic. He could feel it within him – that had been the first step – he just couldn't quite get at it.

"You have to want it," Faye said. "You have to want it more than anything. You have to command it, mold it to your will."

Harry gave her a sharp nod, and tried again. He could feel it stir within him like a burst of sunshine inside him, itching to get out but not able to. Harry willed it get out and to levitate the feather in front of him. Nothing happened. He gave a weary sigh.

"What about doing it with you in his head," Lucius said.

"I didn't want to do it that way. I want him to be able to do it without me helping him through it."

Lucius nodded thoughtfully. "Then this will take him months to master," he said. "With practice your magic grows, Harry, and as it grows it becomes much more volatile and harder to control, but making it powerful is what we want. Accidental magic is wandless magic caused by emotion. It is pure magic. Your magic has to expand, that's the only way I can see this working, now."

Harry nodded. He knew it would be hard. This wasn't something that you were just a natural at. Voldemort had increased his magic through spells and potions until he could use wandless magic. In the back of his mind he knew that Snape would have made a better teacher, but he shook this thought and then tried it again. This time he felt his magic run farther through his body, filling him up with warmth.

His eyes closed and he felt as if he was in an embrace of warmth. Everything was calm and peaceful. His eyes opened and everything was hazy. He could make out shapes and then he felt exhaustion. He slumped forward and for a second everything went black.

"Harry, Harry?" A frantic voice asked.

He lifted his head. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Well, you're done for the day," Faye said with a shake of her head. "Come on, you need some rest. Kreacher!"

Faye led Harry to the sofa and helped him sit. Harry smiled gratefully at her.

"That was rather impressive, I think," Lucius said from his chair.

"And we'll be talking about magical exhaustion soon enough, Harry," Faye said with the hint of a warning tone in her voice, though mostly Harry identified fondness.

When he and Faye had gotten to be this close, Harry didn't know, but she had become a friend, caring for him in a way that a mother should, with the understanding of who he was and what he needed unlike Molly Weasley who felt that all that Harry needed was to be fed and coddled.

Kreacher, under the instruction of Faye, brought them a small lunch. Harry tried to eat the sandwich that had been placed on the table next to him.

"You have to regain your strength, Harry," Faye said, as she brought her own sandwich to her mouth.

The next few minutes were spent in silence, Harry trying to determine which corner of the sandwich it would be best to start with, while Faye turned the pages of a book, still researching for Hermione, and Lucius stared at the fire, deep in thought. The silence was broken suddenly by the sound of a knock on the door.

Harry sat up. This had to be news. Harry tried to get up, but Faye kept him seated with one look, and motioned for Lucius to see who it was, though she too looked curious and worried. Her expressions could have easily indicated that she had no real interest in the matter, but Harry knew better, and he was glad to note that she had allowed him to become this close to her.

Lucius came back a few seconds later, leading a blood covered Remus inside the house. Tightly to his chest, Remus was holding a small body, and it took Harry all of a minute to figure out who the lithe body belonged to. Imogen Copperfield was unconscious, but it was clear to Harry that it was her blood on Remus and not his. Questions flooded his mind. What had happened? Had she been at the ministry?

"Bring her here," Faye said, waving her wand at a chair that quickly transfigured itself into a small comfortable bed.

Remus put her down and Faye rushed to her side.

"What happened to her?" She asked.

"Cruciatus, a cutting spell, and who knows what else before we got there."

Imy moaned in pain. One of her pale hands moved to her side, just as her eyes fluttered open. She hissed something unintelligible and then whimpered.

"She's going to need a pain potion," Remus said. "I'll go and find one."

"No," Faye said before he had even stepped away. "I worked on her, remember. A pain potion will not help."

"Worked on her?" Harry asked.

Faye did not answer. She had taken Imogen's face in her hands and was looking deep into her eyes, and Harry knew she was using legilimency on her. They all watched in silence, and then after what could have been only seconds Faye shook her herself.

"What happened to her?" Harry asked.

"Dreamless sleep, and maybe some of that cream of yours, Lucius," Faye said first, before looking at Harry. "She was in the ministry during the moment of the attack and hid in the Minister of Magic's office. She's been hiding in there until earlier today when Nagini gave her away."

Faye said nothing more and began to wave her wand over Imogen's body, a deep frown on her face. Harry watched, hoping that nothing serious had happened to Imy, not only physically but mentally.

It took Faye about half an hour to get Imy fixed up and Harry thought that she still looked too pale to be alright. He watched her from his spot on the sofa, still holding the sandwich he had been handed earlier. Imogen was like a sister to him, and hearing that she couldn't take pain potions made him suspicious. What had Faye done? She had worked on her? How? Medically? Questions made up his entire mind at the moment, but he didn't dare ask them while Faye looked almost as pale as Imy.

Remus had left again, something about being needed at Hogwarts. From what he had told them, the Ministry gave the appearance of being deserted, but only because it was destroying itself slowly and Voldemort had been working on reconstruction. Harry wondered, what would happen then, but pushed that thought away. They had managed to escape the clutches of the Ministry but barely, and had taken only Imy though they were pretty sure that only a few Ministry officials had been killed outright, and that most of the casualties had happened due to the attack.

While all of this was going on, Harry still worried about the Horcruxes, and not for the first time did he think about Snape, and wonder if Snape had told Voldemort about his knowledge of the parts of his soul. Surely, Snape didn't hate him that much.

-

-

-

_August 2, 1998_

Imy woke up with a headache. She was in a comfortable bed and other than the headache what bothered her most was her lack of water and food. She didn't recognize the room she was in, but she was in a bed, and she was clean, and she didn't feel any pain on her limbs from lack of movement or from being thrown out of her hole, or whatever else had happened at the ministry.

She heard footsteps outside her door, and then the gentle voice of a woman admonishing someone.

"No. I can't allow that," she was saying. "You know as well as I do."

The man responded with, "I hardly have to listen to you." And then their voices drifted away.

Imy wanted to know who they were even though she had the idea that she had heard the woman's voice before, and that neither of them meant her any harm. Before she could get out of bed and go out to explore the house, however, the door to her room opened about an inch, and Imogen saw eyes that she had thought, only a day ago, that she would never see ever again.

Harry Potter had changed. But he was the same. His entire being shouted out with power, and there was a subtle change in him.

"Harry!" She cried, and tried to get off the bed and run to him.

He was at her side in an instant and had her in his arms, pulling her into a hug. "I was worried about you," he admitted.

She smiled into his chest. "I didn't think I would ever see you again, Harry," she said. "I was so afraid and I kept thinking of how brave you were and about what you would do if you had been in my place. Oh, Harry, he was so scary."

She shuddered.

"You're alright now," Harry said. "Can you walk? Kreacher made breakfast and you're probably famished."

"I can walk," she assured him, and then giving her room another look over, she asked, "Where are we exactly?"

"My house," Harry said. "Well, my godfather's house. He left it to me when he died. It's probably the most protected place in London. In here you're as safe as you are at Hogwarts."

Imy grinned. "I kind of like it here."

"Alright, well, we really should be getting down stairs. But first, I guess I should warn you. You've heard of Lucius Malfoy, right?"

Imogen nodded. "What about him?"

"He is living in this house. He's actually very nice in a certain way once you get to know him. He's on our side, you see. He was a spy. I guess everyone got it all wrong when they thought that Snape was the good one. Anyway, he's been living here for months now, and he and Faye are sort of together or something. I don't really like thinking about that, but it's just so you know."

"Who else is in this house?"

"At the moment there isn't anyone else. Remus Lupin will pop in from time to time. His wife will too at times, and a number of other people. The Weasleys. But in light of everything that's happened, I think it's only the four of us for a while."

Harry led Imogen down the corridor, and then down the stairs. She took in the ancestral home without fear, but with the knowledge that it must have belonged to someone that used dark magic – that sort of thing left a mark, and even she as a twelve year old muggle born could feel that.

-

-

-

_August 5, 1998_

News had been scarce, and Harry had spent all of his free time attempting to grasp wandless magic, with Imogen watching him quietly with Faye.

Lucius would often join them for a short amount of time, before he retreated to the library where he spent most of his time reading. Harry and Faye had tried many times to get him to tell them what it was Lucius did in the library for hours at a time, but Lucius never relented and told them, hiding the books he read with spells so that not even that they could know.

Now that Imy was in the house as well, Lucius was seen even less than before.

"Try again, Harry," Imy said, cheering him on.

Harry smiled faintly and closed his eyes. He gathered all of his magic, pulling at it from his very being and tried to direct it outwards to the unlit candle in front of him. Nothing happened, but he felt the magic at his fingertips, which was more than could be said the last time he had tried.

Harry eased the magic back, and sighed. Magical exhaustion, as Faye had lectured him, was the worst that could happen to him, but it was also something that he had to avoid at all costs.

"Just keep practicing, Harry, that's all I can tell you," Faye said, looking up at him from a large tome on spells and the roll of parchment that contained her miniscule writing and all the research they had done so far on helping Hermione.

"Alright. I'll give it another go," Harry said, and prepared himself.

Harry kept on practicing for the next fifteen minutes, until finally deciding that he needed to take a break from it, he joined Imogen on the sofa where she was flipping through a book.

"Imy, should we be getting you to your parents?" Harry asked.

He had been meaning to breach the subject for a while, wondering why she, a muggle-born soon to be second year at Hogwarts had somehow wound up at the Ministry of magic near the Minister of Magic's office of all places.

Imogen closed her book. "They probably won't mind that I'm gone," Imogen said.

Harry wondered if this was anything to do with her magic, he didn't, however, ask her that. Instead he nodded and then turned towards Faye. "Anything new?" He asked.

"Not really. Just the same stuff as before. I think I've almost got the original incantation just right. If I get that, then we can eliminate many different variables into what could help her. I've been looking into potions now. Certain plants seem like they might help, but if not mixed with the right ingredients it could turn out catastrophic."

Harry knew there was no point to even hope that Hermione would be alright. The best she could come to being alright was in the state she was in now – petrified.

"Poor Hermione," Imy said with a sad smile. "She protected me, you know. I wasn't aware that anything was going on, and I came out into the hallway, and there were spells flying everywhere, and something was thrown my way. Hermione deflected it, but I was hit later by a stunner. Neville made sure I wouldn't get hit by anything else from what Ginny told me."

Imy had been in the hospital wing for the total of one day, before she was allowed to leave. After that Harry had seen her only once in the common room and then another time during Dumbledore's funeral. After that, he had lost track of her, particularly after leaving the school, and now he began to wonder if her home life was at all alright.

From what Faye had managed to get out of her concerning the matter, Imogen had an older brother that basically took care of her, and she hated being a burden to him. Her mother and father were divorced, and her mother worked most of the time leaving her brother to take care of her. Her going to Hogwarts had saved both of them up a lot of time, but now that she was back things were different. Imy never spoke of her mother or brother, or for that matter of her father whom Imy claimed to have no knowledge of.

What had been most interesting about what Imy had had to tell them was that she didn't know how she had gotten to the Minister's office, but only that she had gone to the Ministry with Elissa Harper and her mother before Mrs. Harper had been called in to see to some matter and had not wanted to leave them alone.

Harry didn't know what he could make of the fact that not only Imogen had gotten separated from them, but Mrs. Harper and Elissa were neither marked as dead or missing.

Lucius claimed to have never heard of any Death Eater with the name of Harper, but Harry was almost positive that Mrs. Harper was a Death Eater, and that she had endangered Elissa for the sake of endangering Imy. Harry just couldn't figure out the reason.

-

-

-

_August 25, 1998_

Harry couldn't just sit still and do nothing. He knew it was time for him leave. He had spent too much time already, sitting idly. Learning wandless magic was important, and Harry understood that, but the Horcruxes would become more crucial as time went on. Right now, Harry highly doubted that Voldemort knew he was aware of the objects that made him immortal. But sooner than Harry would like, Voldemort would find out and begin protecting them far more than he had in recent years. He might even try to lure Harry to one, and then not even wandless magic could help him once Voldemort captured him or worse. He had to get a move on, and he had to do it soon.

News about what would happen to the wizarding world were scarce, and for the most part only rumors. Slowly, the Death Eaters and Voldemort had rebuilt the Ministry, and now, they were there, hidden behind the power that the Ministry now had over the wizarding world. The only place untouched by this corruption was Hogwarts and it would remain that way for as long as possible.

It would take him just two days to be completely ready to leave. He would do it just as he had planned before. Faye knew that he meant to do this, but no one else – though Harry imagined that Lucius had some idea of his plans. With the Ministry in the mess that it was with everyone wanting more power than the other it was the perfect time to depart. He could disappear for some time without anyone noticing him. What Harry didn't know, however, was how he was going to get away from Imogen to gather everything he needed. With Imogen around, Harry did not get any free time. She was everywhere he went and Harry felt finally as if he knew what actually having a little sister meant. Suddenly he found himself with a deep understanding of Ron's feelings about Ginny. He would never not listen to Ron when he wanted to complain about his younger sibling ever again.

Harry felt, more than he noticed, the eyes on the back of his head, and at once knew that the object of his thoughts was watching him. At first, Imy watching as he attempted to use wandless magic had encouraged him, but now it was just another quirk of Imy's that Harry couldn't stand.

"Imy, I need to concentrate. You standing there watching me is not gong to help," Harry said in as gentle as voice as possible as to not yell at her.

Harry heard her leave the room and was grateful in part for the fact that Imy was generally understanding of other's people's limits, even if at times she tended to forget such things. After making sure that nothing else was distracting him, Harry pulled on his magic and attempted to light the candle in front of him.

Like every time he had tried this before, he could feel his magic and it was – in his opinion – reasonably more powerful than when he had first started learning wandless magic. He could feel it, now, running through his veins, wanting to rush out of him. And then it did, but it did nothing more than to rush around him. It was pure raw power and it was all around him for a few seconds before it rushed back into his body.

His magic sung. Harry felt exhilaration. He had never felt such a high in his life before. That pure energy that came right out of him had taken his breath away – and there were no words to describe it. With more practice he would master it; Harry was sure of it. He stood up from his spot on the floor in the room he had once shared with Ron back before his fifth year.

A few seconds later after letting the aftershock of the magic running through him leave him, Harry walked out of the room, making his way to the room that had belonged to Sirius, hoping that as Imy had gone off to do something else (Harry secretly hoped that she would be annoying Lucius) he could finally get around to doing some packing. There were few things that Harry truly cared about and those were the ones he was talking with him – he was also going to be leaving many of his belongings behind.

Harry had almost finished going through everything in his trunk which apparently – with the enlargement spells – seemed to hold not only his books for Hogwarts but so many others as well as his clothes and most of his worldly belongings, that Faye knocked on his door, and looking around entered the room and closed the door behind her gently.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" She asked.

"It's about time I go. I promised to stay long enough for everything to be back in order. It's perfect timing for me to leave," Harry said.

Faye nodded and walked around his room, looking at the walls that seemed to Harry empty without the posters his godfather had favored of motorcycles and half naked girls though Harry could admit to himself that the girls would have made him slightly uncomfortable.

"I hope you will contact me if anything does wrong – if you need anything at all. I'm not going to pry as to the real reason you're leaving because there must be something else you have to do."

Harry gave no indication that he did have another reason for leaving other than what Faye suspected. She smiled faintly at him.

"Harry," she said suddenly, though in a way that Harry knew meant that she was very reluctant to breech this subject, but that she had to.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Oh, Harry," Faye said and took his face between both her hands, like she had the day of his birthday at the Burrow. He looked straight at her blue eyes.

"I need you to promise me something," she said with all seriousness.

Harry frowned. "What – what do you need from me?"

Faye took a deep breath, letting his face go and instead grasping his shoulders.

"I need you to promise me, Harry, that if you ever encounter your father, you will restrain yourself. Do not commit the crime that will make you into the next Dark Lord. Please listen to him. There has got to be a reason for what he did. If there is anything you can do for me, Harry, you will promise me this."

Harry was shocked. This was not what he had expected her to ask. That she even brought up to topic of Snape with him was a shock to him. So far both of them had ignored that topic of conversation and now the entire thing was floating in the air between them.

"I can't," Harry said in an almost chocked voice. He coughed. "That man may be my father, but he is a murderer."

The last month hadn't changed that, Harry knew. His anger may have receded and for the most part he no longer felt completely irrational about his anger towards his father, but Snape had still killed Dumbledore – had betrayed Harry. Harry ignored the voice in the back of his head that was telling him that he was also still mad at Snape over the bathroom incident, and that matter of his telling Voldemort about the prophecy. He didn't mention any of this to Faye, however, and waited for her to say something.

Harry noticed, before she spoke that she was staring without really seeing anything, straight in front of her; seemingly to be caught up in a memory. She blinked suddenly.

"Sorry," she said, "just thinking."

Harry was itching to ask her what she had been thinking, but instead he waited her to begin.

"Harry, you won't understand this until you have children of your own. Sometimes a parent will do what is best for you even if it hurts you."

"But you don't have any children—" Harry began. She stopped him by placing a hand atop his.

"I do, Harry. This is what I'm telling you."

Harry's eyes widened and he attempted to say something but nothing came out.

Faye smiled faintly at him and began her story.


	5. Faye's Tale

**Author's Note: **This week has simply been the strangest week I've had yet. I actually understood all of what I learned in Algebra 2, and while I didn't get much more progress on the writing, I did get a few more ideas for the plot...the stuff coming up in ch. 10 to 14 or so. I now have a bit more of a plot. I have also made a decision. This fanfic will be the last one I ever write, well, for now, because I do want to focus after I finish writing this on my college apps and my original works. I also nearly lost a finger. Alright, I won't be that histrionic, but I can barely just type with my right hand and handwriting anything is just not happening. I had an accident during a chemistry lab and I broke a thin piece of tubing in my hand and I have this semi-deep cut on my index finger, right above where it connects to my palm...and it hurts like hell. I was sent home from school for it because it wouldn't stop bleeding and the nurse wanted me to go to to the emergency room...but really, some neosporin is all I need, and of course to keep it clean.

Anyway, enough about me, I know all of you want to get the story itself...so anyway, thanks for the reviews, and read the author's note at the bottom. Enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, and Imogen.

**_Chapter Five_**

_Faye's Tale_

_August 25, 1998_

Faye smiled sadly, and appeared to still be reminiscing about the past, as she said, "Lucius knows. No one else knows about this and now you. And if this will help you – after all, I know your secret – then I'll gladly tell you."

It dawned on Harry, then, that whatever had happened to Faye in the past to get her captured by Voldemort, and to her making a choice about her child, had to have been traumatizing in some way or another. He noticed at once that she was close to losing the perfect control that always engrossed her. Harry waited patiently for her to start and wondered how much he truly didn't know about the people he knew.

"I know I could easily tell you only about my son and the decision I had to make, but I think knowing how Lucius and I came to have a son is where this story really begins," Faye said and got herself comfortable on the messy bed, rubbing her hands together as if they were cold.

Harry couldn't help but wonder, as she admitted what he had already suspected (that Lucius Malfoy was the father) if Draco Malfoy could possibly be her son.

Harry shifted from foot to foot, wondering where he should sit. Finally making a decision, he waved a wand at the floor next to him, conjuring up a comfortable mahogany wooden armchair. Harry sunk into it and got himself as comfortable as possible, ready for the story.

Faye was staring at the wall devoid of Sirius' posters. To Harry those walls looked empty and he knew something would have to be put up to replace them.

"I knew Lucius during school," Faye said suddenly. Harry had already suspected that this had been the case and said nothing as she continued, "Being a muggleborn in Slytherin was always hard and I tried to make myself invisible. Only a few people knew that I wasn't a pureblood and they kept that as quiet as possible, wanting to use this information later on to get me to do something for them later; that is the way with Slytherin."

She smiled fondly. Harry wondered if the smile was meant to be because of Lucius or the way Slytherin house worked.

"Like everyone else, I noticed him. He was hard to ignore. Lucius always stood out in a crowd."

Just like Draco, Harry thought, knowing fully well how much influence he had of his house.

"I wasn't his friend until late into our sixth year when I found him awake in the common room one night. We had a number of meetings there until the end of the year, all taking place at the same time of our first meeting. We never spoke of those meeting afterwards and rarely ever noticed each other outside of the common room at 3 in the morning."

Harry wondered if that had been her doing or more of Lucius'. Instead of asking her about that, however, he asked, "Did he know you were muggleborn?"

Faye laughed. "Not at first," she said. "I tried to hide that from him for as long as I could, but secrets always have a way of coming out."

Harry wondered if Lucius had been as accepting of her as a muggleborn as he was of her now.

"He was angry at me once he found out. I had never seen him like that and it scared me. It was as if he wanted to hurt me for not being a pureblood. We ceased to meet, then, for the remaining weeks of our sixth year."

That Lucius had been a prejudiced prick didn't surprise him, but rather made him wonder how he had come to almost respect muggleborns and muggles.

"So, what happened to Lucius to change him so much? I mean, obviously he was one of those that believed in the purity of blood."

"What you have to understand," Faye said, "is that Abbraxas Malfoy was first and foremost Lucius' biggest influence. Lucius had been taught and trained to hate muggles and muggleborns. He was shaped in such a way that most of his beliefs and values were those of his family and not his own. Lucius could hardly be expected to think for himself and finding that he liked me as a person and I wasn't pureblood was conflicting with everything he believed once."

Harry frowned. That had been the perfect description for Draco Malfoy once, but now that Harry had gotten to know Lucius Malfoy, he knew that Draco was far from being like his father. And if Faye was his mother, then he was as far from being like her as it was possible for him to be.

Faye got up suddenly and walked to the only window in the room. She moved the curtain aside and looked out to the empty London street, she turned back to him a second later but remained standing by the window, her hands grasping the window sill. She began speaking at once.

"When we got back for our seventh year I was determined not to talk to him. I'm stubborn, and I admit it. I hated how much I enjoyed spending time with him, when clearly he hated what I was.

"The war, at this point, was making everyone nervous and in Slytherin house anyone without having chosen what side they would fight on when it came, needed to be the most careful. Alliances were being drawn and if you weren't on the right side you were doomed. I refused to be part of it. The greatest danger was in my own house."

Faye leaned back against the window, and folded her arms in front of her. She continued a few moments later, "Everyone knew Lucius had to follow those alliances set forth by his family. He was going to become a Death Eater the moment he left school or earlier if his father could arrange it. He had his own little group of followers that under his influence would become future Death Eaters. I don't think he ever realized how much power he truly held – or maybe he did and didn't seem to really care."

"My father was one of them, wasn't he?" Harry asked in a small voice, already knowing the answer before Faye nodded and walked forward, towards him, capturing his chin with her right hand.

"Lucius had an influence on everyone. He was the Prince of Slytherin. Everyone listened to him or faced his wrath. I alone tried hard to ignore him and even that didn't last for long."

Harry nodded. She let him go, and once more sat down on the bed, this time crossed legged, right near the middle with all of his things surrounding her.

"You have to understand, Harry, during this time everyone was scared. No one knew who would win and everyone was trying to pick the side that would."

Harry nodded again. "Go on," he said.

"People wear masks. Lucius has so many of them sometimes so that no one can ever tell what he's up to at any given moment. Even right now, I know he's plotting something. It's the Slytherin way, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. He had seen it so often in his father in the past year and in Lucius in the last few months that there was no doubt about it.

"The summer before our seventh year, Lucius had done a lot of thinking – a lot of growing. He came to a few conclusions that without me as his friend, he would never have come to. When I finally talked to him, about a month into the school year, he was different. I will admit now, what I didn't see then. He was still as arrogant as ever, and he remained as set on prejudices as before. He did, however, begin to see me as his equal.

"Lucius had two personalities. One of them was the perfect Death Eater to be and the other doubted all of is beliefs and he eagerly wanted to be his own person. His obligations to his father were too important, however, for him to free himself from them."

She smiled sadly at the memory. Harry didn't dare ask any of the questions that were floating around in his head concerning Lucius and Faye.

She continued again a second later. "I was half in love with him by the time the Christmas holidays arrived. That year, I remained behind for the holidays for the first time since I had arrived at Hogwarts. It was very much to do with it being my seventh year, I think, and Hogwarts had been such an amazing place that I had called home for so long. I was also distancing myself from my family. I didn't realize it then, but I was pushing them farther and farther away because of Lucius."

Harry found himself frowning. "You loved him that much?" He asked.

"I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone else, but I was completely and utterly sure that he did not feel the same way."

Harry nodded. "What happened?" He asked.

"Lucius was going home, like he did every year. I was going to miss him terribly, but I felt as if a break from him might help me get away from him. The night before everyone was leaving for the holidays will always remain in my mind forever."

"Why? What happened?"

"For the first time I saw the real Lucius Malfoy, the one that I had been sure was hiding underneath every mask that he put up for everyone to see. He was far more than that second personality of his. This Lucius wanted nothing to do with Voldemort. This Lucius was scared and feared more than even Voldemort, his father.

"On that night he told me exactly what this break from school meant. He confided in me what he had told no one before me. He was going to get the Dark Mark on Christmas Eve."

Harry gasped. "What did you say?" Harry asked wondering how he would have reacted if anyone came to him to tell him that.

"I didn't know what to say," Faye responded with a grimace. "It was useless for him to fight it. We both knew it. Refusing the mark was like signing your own death warrant. Lucius was brave in many ways, but never enough to go against Abbraxas' wishes."

Harry wondered absentmindedly if that was what happened to Draco Malfoy. If Lucius had never told him that he was working for the Order, then Draco would have seen that side of his father that served as a front for Voldemort.

Faye pulled her hair out of the pony tail that it had been in when she had walked into the room, and let it fall past her shoulders. She continued with the story, all the while brushing her hair with her fingers. "Lucius was always ambitious and he knew very well what doors would be open to him with that touch of dark magic upon his skin. The fact that he would lose his inheritance if his father knew of even his reluctance to join Voldemort was also a major point in his decision.

"What he wanted from me was what only someone in my position could offer. I wasn't like the rest of them in our house. I wasn't looking for any little piece of news that could give me power. Lucius trusted me with this because I was in fact one his few true friends."

Harry shifted on his just as he heard something fall from the bed. The phoenix figurine that Draco had given him was on the floor unbroken and undamaged. Harry didn't bother getting out of his chair to pick it up. Faye was once more lost to her memory and Harry didn't think he should bother her while she was thinking back to all those years ago.

She came back a few minutes later. "Sorry," she said. "I get lost in the past sometimes, as you've no doubt noticed. My memories were the only things that kept me sane. Thinking of Lucius more than anything kept me within my mind."

"I sometimes forget that you were their prisoner for so long," Harry admitted.

"It's quite alright, Harry," Faye said. She took a deep breath. "Where were we? Ah, that's right, Christmas. The next day Lucius left with the rest of them. I watched him from the owlery as he got into the carriage and left and I offered him all of my strength for the task ahead of him.

"Lucius came back to Hogwarts earlier than expected. He was back on Christmas day, with the Dark Mark burned onto his left arm – one of the first signs that he had lost part of his soul like so many others before him. But it was what he told me that night that bothered me perhaps more than the Dark Mark. A silly thought, I know, but I don't think you've ever been in love, Harry."

Harry didn't try to deny it. He and Cho had never really gotten past a first date, and he had decided to not endanger anyone in this way after that so he hadn't had the chance to fall in love, and he wouldn't until after the war. This was a part of himself that he needed to put on hold, and he wouldn't go against this decision.

"I haven't," Harry said, noticing at once that Faye was looking at him. "Go on."

"I loved him to such a point that I would do anything for him," Faye admitted. "Love makes you do such silly things. What Lucius told me that night devastated me though I had no right to be. I had never held such silly fancies that he and I could be together. It was impossible considering who we were. I didn't even try to think about it. I would love him from afar, and if he cared for me in the same way, then that would be that, but I knew we could be nothing to each other. Politics and the war would not allow it. The same was to be said of many other couples during that time.

"The reason Lucius had come home early was because he hadn't been happy to hear, after getting the Dark Mark, that he would be meeting his future bride. If anything, Lucius hates not making his own choices most of all. Narcissa Black was supposedly perfect for him. I knew her, she was in our year. She was a vain girl who cared for nothing more than the money she had in her purse to spend. Narcissa was cold and not at all the person I saw Lucius with. She would never understand the subtleties that Lucius represented and she was far too concentrated on herself."

Harry could hear the edge on her voice that told him just how much Faye was still jealous of Narcissa Malfoy.

"He didn't like her either. She was too far into her own little world to care about anything, and she thought Lucius as charming as everyone else found him. I had never liked her, and now I found myself hating her," Faye said. She laughed a second later as if her thoughts on Narcissa were petty considering that now she had Lucius and Narcissa was unaware of her husband's whereabouts or alliances.

"It took about a month after that night for Lucius to realize that he liked me as more than just the friend he had considered me, and everything went down hill from there," She continued a few minutes later, once more getting up from the bed.

"He had to marry her?" Harry asked. He found the entire idea of being told who to marry archaic. He knew certain pureblood families still held on to those beliefs, but luckily most of them had given that up long before.

"Yes," Faye said. "The way that their parents had bound them they couldn't get out of their marriage even if they wanted to. Lucius didn't care and claimed that he could do what he wanted. I on the other hand was too afraid of getting hurt and pushed him away. That lasted until the end of the year, when I knew I could go on my way and forget him."

"So then what happened?" Harry asked. "You obviously got together sometime."

"Our seventh year finished with no changes. Lucius was a Death Eater and I had decided to stay as far away from the war as possible. If I had had to return to my muggle roots, I would have done it, simply to get away from it all. So, I did."

Harry laughed. "But weren't you tempted to use magic? I don't know how you could have handled this."

"As far as everyone was concerned, I was a muggle. Lucius was practically stalking me at some point but for a few years I lived a quiet life, completely away from the Wizarding world. I knew what was going on at times, but for the most part I was so far from everything that was happening that I was unaware of big events.

"Lucius found me again three years after we had left Hogwarts. He wanted to tell me that he was getting married to Narcissa. I tried hard to hide how annoyed I was at hearing this, but really, I could never fool him. He just knew everything about me and that's when our affair began.

"His Death Eater friends knew I existed. They assumed I was a muggle that Lucius enjoyed in the carnal ways. Everyone knew he hated Narcissa. They got married a few months after, and Lucius and I continued in our rendezvous. I know we should have stopped, but it was so hard, letting him go.

"A few years later we were found out. Not by Narcissa but by another Death Eater. He found out I wasn't just a muggle that served to entertain Lucius."

Harry's eyes widened, and everything was beginning to fit together. "Was this when they captured you?" he asked.

"It would lead to that," Faye said. "This happened around the time I found out that I was pregnant. I stayed as far away from Lucius as possible during that time just in case.

"His wife was getting suspicious about me and I think with the pregnancy came a whole new set of problems. Lucius didn't have a son with his wife. The child I carried was to be his heir and that would mess up the bonds that had been made to keep them together. Narcissa had to raise his heir. She had to be the mother of his heir. It would be a few weeks later before I found out that Narcissa was also pregnant. Lucius was overjoyed. He didn't know about our baby. He knew only about his and Narcissa's and I was terribly afraid to tell him."

Harry stood up and stretched before sitting again all the while Faye continued talking.

"The Death Eaters were watching Lucius, some of them suspected that he had betrayed them, but none of them brought it up to Voldemort. That just wasn't done. It was a power game, just like what had been played in Slytherin. They bid their time until they could use this as an advantage. And then one of them found out I was pregnant."

Faye stopped and took a deep breath, wringing her hands together in a nervous habit. "They didn't do anything just then, but that was just their way, but the knowledge that Lucius didn't know about it drove them to tell him to hurt me."

"What happened, then? Surely Lucius wasn't mad you didn't tell him," Harry said thoughtfully. He had gotten so into the story by this point that he couldn't remember what had made her begin telling him this in the first place.

"Lucius wasn't mad, but he was disappointed that I hadn't told him when I first found out. By this point Lucius and I understood each other so well that we could have traded places and no one could have been the wiser. And then it happened."

"What? What happened?" Harry asked, with the excitement of a small child listening to a bedtime story.

Faye laughed. "Your compassion is amazing," she said instead of telling him what had happened.

Harry glared at her. "Go on," he urged. "I want to know what happened."

Faye smiled. "You're a boy in so many ways and a man in so many others."

Harry rolled his eyes. She shook her head with laughter playing at her eyes and then continued her tale. "It is strange how fate works, how everything falls into place. I always thought it was strange that the same night Narcissa went into labor so did I. My child lived, while hers – a little girl – died."

Harry's eyes widened. "You're Draco's mum?" he asked without preamble.

"He's a right prat, I know, but he is my son," Faye said with the fondness that Harry knew only could come from a mother for her child.

He found he felt slightly jealous of Draco. He had the mother that he, Harry had always wanted, and he also had the father that while Harry had not wanted, would have made for a better candidate than Snape.

"I blame Narcissa and Lucius for how he has turned out. He isn't aware that Narcissa isn't his mother, and Narcissa doesn't know any better herself," Faye said and this time her voice was sad and longing.

"You gave her your son? Why?" Harry asked. "Surely you could have kept him."

She shook her head. "It was my choice in the end. Only Lucius and one other person ever knew about it. Regulus Black hated Lucius and he was the one that told Voldemort about me and our baby. He was there that night, so Lucius and I did the only thing that we could, we pretended that it had been my baby that was stillborn and that Narcissa had given birth to a healthy little boy.

"I named him Draco and insisted that Lucius name him that, and then I pretended – though a lot of it came naturally from giving him up – to be the broken mother that I was. I didn't expect that Voldemort knew. I thought only Regulus and a few others, but he did and he had tasked Regulus with bringing me to him."

"And that was when you were captured?" Harry asked. Everything fit together. Another tragedy in the midst of a war, and how many more had there been? How many more were to take place during this war?

"I was tortured while Lucius watched. Lucius didn't know until some months ago that I was alive. He'd been suffering with the knowledge that I was dead for years until your father rescued me."

Harry frowned. He had forgotten that Snape had rescued her, and it bothered him that he had done that only to turn around and betray the Order. Harry didn't voice this.

"Why didn't he actually kill you?" Harry asked, and it had been a question that had been in the back of his mind for months.

Faye sighed and Harry thought she looked as if she was debating with herself. It took her a few minutes, and then she came to a conclusion.

"I can speak to snakes, Harry," she said softly and waited for his reaction.

"So can Imogen," Harry said at last. "And I can. But you know that."

"Imy can speak to them too?" Faye asked, and her eyes widened. Her face was devoid of all color and her eyes shifted from place to place worriedly.

"What?" Harry asked.

"There's a ritual," Faye said finally. "My blood not being pure but still containing the intertwining of my gift and ability to speak to snakes is rather different than that of any other witch of wizard. From the moment he held me captive until you got rid of him, Voldemort used my blood for a number of rituals that required it – most of those dark.

"If he finds out that Imogen speaks to snakes, she will be in danger, as I was. That he is deprived of my blood now is one of our advantages, though I think he has enough for whatever it was he was planning back when I was in his custody."

Harry sighed. Now they had even more to think about. Ending this war was going to be harder than he had expected. Voldemort was up to something and Faye's blood was right in the middle of it and as it appeared, some sort of ritual.

Faye stood up, off of his bed and grasped his shoulders. "Harry," she said, "try not to worry so much about it. You have more than enough on your plate from what it appears."

Harry laughed. "I know," he said.

"Now, you need to promise me," she said, having obviously not forgotten, as Harry had, the reason why the conversation on Faye's past had come about. "You will not hurt your father unless he strikes first. When Draco finds out that he has been lied to all these years he will hate me and Lucius, and he will not understand that the choice I made was the only choice possible. He will not understand how much it hurt me or why I did it. Harry, you have to give him a change. He deserves that much."

Harry didn't want to agree with her, but he knew that she had a point, and that he really didn't know if Snape had killed Dumbledore for a further reason than because he was betraying Harry and the Order, but Harry was positive that until such a fact was proven false, Snape would remain in his eyes, as a coward and a Death Eater.

**Author's Note: **Alright, so when I was planning this chapter, because I really didn't know how to go about writing it, I thought about having Faye flashback to when she and Lucius were in school and everything else she told Harry, but I knew that 1. it was going to take me 3 chapters or so to get really into it, and that 2. it would be completely out of place in this story and completely irrelevant. JKR has, as all of you know, tons of different little extra things on her characters which never made it into the books...I was going to keep some of this stuff like that and Have a quick little talk with the major things in it, but I really wanted everyone to hear Faye's story. I mean there is so much more to it...so I started writing it in Faye's point of view (still 3rd person) from back then and while I haven't gotten a lot done on it, that will serve as a small little spin off from this fic. It will probably not be too long. I think a one-shot or just something with less than 5 chapters. So be in the look out for it, it will probably be a few months. A Faye/Lucius ficlet/one-shot plot bunny set in this universe. If anyone has any title ideas, please put them in your reviews. Thanks.

Thanks again for all the reviews, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

-Erika


	6. Souls

**Author's Note: **I really like this chapter, particularly the scene which I thoroughly enjoyed writing. Anyway, please review, and enjoy the chapter.

Anyway, enough about me, I know all of you want to get the story itself...so anyway, thanks for the reviews, and read the author's note at the bottom. Enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, and Imogen.

**_Chapter Six  
_**

_Souls_

_August 1, 1998_

"Hurry up, boy!" Snape snapped.

Draco tried hard to not roll his eyes at the figure of his teacher and instead tried to walk faster behind him. He didn't dare ask him where they were going. It wasn't as if Snape would answer him anyway. He'd been in a bad mood for a week and it wasn't letting up. At first, Draco had assumed it had something to do with Voldemort's plans going so well, but now he didn't know what to think. Now, Draco wondered if it had anything to do with Potter, but he wasn't entirely sure of that.

It had been, strangely enough, the most interesting development to come out of the end of his sixth year. Severus Snape was Harry Potter's father. Draco knew nothing more than that seeing as Snape hadn't – even when he was in a good mood – looked as if he wanted to approach that subject specifically.

Draco didn't dare even think about it in the presence of Snape, but Snape was in front of him and he needed eye contact to use legillimency on him and at the moment he couldn't. Draco had been aware of his potions' professor abilities with the mind, but would never have imagined that by using them he had held the spot of spy for Dumbledore.

And now that had been ruined to some extent. From what Draco understood, in the few bits and pieces of information that Snape had trusted him with, Snape still had a contact within the Order that he reported to, but for the most part everyone in Dumbledore's group hated him and thought of him as a traitor.

Snape suddenly came to a stop and if Draco had not looked up at that precise moment he would have run straight into his back. As it was, he stopped a few inches from him.

"Professor?" He asked.

Snape said nothing and then he walked forward a few steps before bringing out his wand. Draco reached towards his own wand and looked around the very empty, very serene forest Snape had dragged him off to after going to the Ministry to speak to Voldemort.

Draco opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but before even a syllable had left his mouth, Snape had lifted a hand to stop him. Draco closed his mouth and waited, trying hard to figure what had Snape on edge.

Then Snape walked forward again, muttering, and Draco watched in amazement as some sort of dust began to form around him. Draco opened and closed his mouth. He had never seen anything as wonderful as this. Something – exhilaration, he thought – filled him and wanted to make him dance and sing and jump for joy. He had only ever felt like this once before but then it had been followed by remorse.

He heard almost faintly, someone calling his name and he realized at once that his eyes must have closed of their own volition. He opened them now and it took him a moment to register that it was no longer morning, but that a starry sky was above him and Snape was kneeling next to him with a frown upon his face.

"Foolish boy," Snape said in what sounded distinctively as amusement.

This had not been a tone of voice that Draco had ever heard Snape use since his childhood when Draco had taken it upon himself to do something entirely silly while his godfather was visiting. He found he had missed that in Snape's voice in the last few years.

"What – what was that? What happened?" Draco asked. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

Snape sighed and stood up. He walked towards one of the oak trees surrounding them and Draco could now only barely make out his silhouette. "I should have warned you. I thought you'd have some modicum of intelligence within that brain of yours to occlude the moment you felt the intrusion. I did not imagine I needed to worry about you," Snape said in a calm voice that carried clearly towards Draco.

Draco frowned and attempted to stand up, but felt a feeling of dizziness come over him.

"Stay seated, Draco," Snape said without even turning.

It had always amazed Draco, how Snape seemed to know the movement of everything around him. He had always wanted to know how that was even remotely possible, but whenever that thought was brought up inside is head, Draco had always found it a terrible time to even bother asking such a question. He filed it in the back of his mind to ask at a later time, after all they would be spending a lot of time together on this new mission they had been given.

"So," Draco insisted. "You didn't answer my question, what happened? What was that light?"

"They were souls," Snape said.

"Souls?" Draco asked in confusion, and then repeated it again, "souls."

"They are quite attracted to dark magic, souls," Snape continued. "They pray on the remnants of dark magic unless you are occluding as I assumed you would be. I have not seen you do any dark spells, but you have been out for close to seven hours which gives me the impression that you have been practicing the dark arts. One spell in particular if the signs of your fatigue are anything to go by."

Draco couldn't remember the last time he had even uttered any spell that was by any standards dark, and he opened his mouth to say as much to Snape when he remembered. The memory came to him as if out of a dream. He had been in such a bad mood that day when Potter had entered the bathroom as if he owned the place and then had refused to leave. Draco had only intended to scare him a little and nothing more with his taunting but then Potter had angered him and he had used the Cruciatus without even thinking about it and really – he wouldn't lie to himself on this font – it had felt great. Just as amazing as the souls earlier, as if they had brought back what he had felt that day in the bathroom. And now Snape was standing there sounding disappointed in him over it. Draco didn't want to admit it to him.

"I haven't done any dark spells," Draco said.

Snape snorted. "Really, Draco?" He asked in his silky voice. "You've used the Cruciatus curse. You know it and I know it. What I'd like to know is when and on who."

He turned to face him, then, and strode forward. Draco tried to stand up again not liking how Snape literally towered over him, not that standing would do much to change that. He wasn't much shorter than Snape, he was less than half a foot shorter, but Snape had a way of standing over people that made him seem much taller than he actually was.

"Draco, you cannot fall down this path," Snape said. "Everything I've been teaching you since we left Hogwarts would be completely useless now if you begin to go down this path and I will not allow that to happen."

Draco said nothing and looked hard at the ground. Snape couldn't prove he had done it, and it wasn't like he was going to do it again. He knew better. That one time had been a moment of weakness and nothing more and he knew now to control himself better. He had been under a lot of pressure, then; he hadn't been thinking and he would never do that again. The exchange for the overwhelmingly good feeling that had come with using the spell had been guilt and it had almost driven him insane and then he had focused on his task and on what Harry Potter had done to him. He had been so stupid about everything and now he knew it.

Draco suddenly felt Snape's hand underneath his chin. He lifted his face and knew his mistake at once with Snape's whispered spell.

It was a completely strange feeling, having Snape in his mind, but it wasn't terrible. He was flipping through his memories and hard as Draco tried to occlude he couldn't. He hated occlumency and he was terrible at it; that he could hide a few truths here or there had been a big surprise but he had never tried to hide something as big as this. And then Snape was upon it and Draco could do nothing but let the memory play out.

-

-

-

_August 27, 1998_

"Kreacher is not a bad elf," the elf screeched at Mrs. Weasley. "Kreacher take care of his family, he does. Master trusts Kreacher to do the cooking every day! Bad miss, trying to take Kreacher's job."

Mrs. Weasley looked aghast from the elf to Harry. Had he not been the center of attention in the room and expected to do something about the house elf, Harry would have burst into laughter like the twins, but as it was, this was his elf that was wagging a finger at the Weasley matriarch and not letting her get anywhere near the food in the house. Secretly Harry thought that Kreacher did have a point. He cooked and cleaned every day within the walls of Twelve Grimmauld Place, and as much as Mrs. Weasley wanted to give them all a meal, she should have respected that he expected to serve anyone that entered the Most Noble house of Black.

Before Harry could tell Kreacher to at the very least allow Mrs. Weasley to help out with dinner, however, Mr. Weasley had come forth and taken Mrs. Weasley by the hand, murmuring into her ear. Someone behind Harry poked him in the arm drawing his attention.

Ginny smiled at him. "Sorry about her," she said sheepishly. "Just lately all she feels she can do is cook and clean and look after everyone. I think she's convinced herself that this will keep us all alive."

Harry looked towards Mrs. Weasley who was now nodding at her husband.

"I'm so sorry, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly catching his gaze. "It was just always my job when I came here for meetings, and you all look so thin."

Harry smiled fondly at her. "Not to worry, Mrs. Weasley, really, but Kreacher can take care of dinner."

She nodded and was steered away by Mr. Weasley towards the table. Harry turned back to Ginny. "How are the rest of you holding up?" He asked.

"Alright, really," Ginny said. "I mean, he was my brother, and deep down I really loved him, but this is war and it's bound to happen and I think preparing myself for someone else dying rather than dwelling on it is the best way to go. I can mourn later for everyone that doesn't make it, but right now isn't it sort of a time for focusing on the war."

Harry nodded. "I'm impressed. I never realized you were so mature."

Ginny blushed and didn't answer.

"I hardly think that whatever Mr. Potter here was saying quite deserved such a pink tint to your cheeks, sister of mine," Fred said casually, coming between them to throw an arm around Ginny's and Harry's shoulders. "If I didn't know any better, I would think something was going on between the two of you."

Harry pulled away from Fred and opened his mouth to set him right, but before he could, Ginny had stomped on Fred's foot and pushed his arm off. "Fred!" she cried indignantly. "Oh – why can't you ever just leave things be?" Her face was almost the same shade of red as her hair and Harry thought steam must have been coming out of her ears for the glare she set on her brother before stomping out of the room.

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck with a grimace. He had never intended far more than to give her a compliment, and of course Fred had taken it too far. He liked Ginny, really, she was a brilliant flyer and unlike most girls he knew she didn't gush over the latest copy of _Witch Weekly _and the magazine's ridiculous articles. She was smart, too, to decide to put off her mourning until the end.

"Did you have to annoy her?" He asked Fred.

"Not really," Fred said, and then added in a whisper, "She has a crush on you, and it's only my brotherly duty to annoy her to Hades and back about it."

Harry had known that Ginny had developed a small crush on him back in his second year at Hogwarts, and it had as far as he had known gone away on it's own over the last few years, but to hear that Ginny was still harboring some sort of torch for him bothered him immensely.

Harry gave Fred a calculating look. "Will you please stop bothering her about it," he said. "She doesn't need you annoying her about it, when I think she has some idea that it would never work out."

"Does Harry have a crush too?" Fred asked with a laugh. "Who could it possibly be?"

"I think I know," George chimed in.

"Oh, who? I'm dying to know, George," Fred said in a breathy voice.

"Why he's quite in love with a Ms. Hermione Granger, dear brother," George said. "Visiting her at least weekly when he could and sitting with her for hours at a time. Now what could that old boyfriend of hers say to that."

"Boyfriend?" Fred asked. "Oh, the fellow she was kissing the night Dumbledore was murdered? Quite right, quite right, what would he say about his dear Hermione being stolen from him by Harry Potter."

Before Harry could say anything to contradict the twins or even ask questions about Hermione's so called boyfriend – if a boyfriend did exist – Kreacher announced that dinner was ready and he suddenly found himself seated between Faye and Imogen with the twins sitting with their sister at the other side of the table.

"Everything alright?" Faye leaned over to whisper the moment he had sat down.

Harry nodded absentmindedly. "Just something the twins said," he elaborated when Faye did not immediately turn to her food.

She snorted. "Anything those two have to say is never good," she remarked, while picking up her fork.

"Yes, well, I think they were trying to get a reaction out of me more than anything," Harry said.

Deep within his mind he was holding an argument. He didn't like Hermione. She was his best friend, that was all, and it was his fault she was in the hospital wing. He loved her just as he loved Ron, because they were his best friends – there was nothing more to it, even if the twins thought there was. They hadn't been right about Hermione liking Ron, after all, and Hermione would never have hid something like a boyfriend from him and Ron would she have?

"Harry, you really shouldn't stab your potatoes," Imogen cut into his thoughts, motioning to the potatoes he had been stabbing his fork into repeatedly.

"Thanks," Harry said.

She nodded with a smile and brought one of her perfectly not stabbed potatoes to her mouth.

"Looking forward to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

The letters had arrived just that morning, a little late, but nevertheless they had arrived. Harry had wondered if Hogwarts was going to reopen, considering that the Order had partially taken over the school for its own use, not that they didn't have an abundance of different houses throughout the United Kingdom that could be used as sanctuaries for muggleborn families.

"I guess so," Imy said through a bite of her food. "It won't be the same though, will it? Everyone's on edge these days. He's really waging his war now and really who's to say that his influence won't reach the school?"

"I won't lie and say that it will not happen," Harry said "but as Professor McGonagall said in the letter, continuing on as if nothing has changed is the best way to go about this."

Imy nodded thoughtfully and continued eating.

"How is the research on Hermione's curse coming along?" Mr. Weasley asked suddenly, addressing Faye.

"Well enough," Faye answered. "I hope to have at least part of a spell developed sometime next month. Lucius and I have been working hard on it but there is still so much to do."

"Yes, there has been a lot going on," Mr. Weasley agreed.

Harry noticed then that Mr. Weasley looked far older than he had ever looked before. Harry wondered if that had more to do with the death of his son or the fact that he was now without a job working twenty four-seven for the Order on special missions recruiting people to their cause. It had become a more dangerous job of late with the Ministry under the hands of Voldemort, but as far as Harry could tell Voldemort was once more biding his time before he made another move.

It was a game of chess and the stalemate had ended. Voldemort had taken a gambit, and now it was his turn to make a move, and that was what Harry intended to do. He would be damned if whatever happened next in this game they were playing was to Voldemort's advantage.

"Sawyer should know more about that," Lucius said to Remus. "He was living with them for so long, I'm positive he knows all about it."

Remus nodded and said something with an amused tone to the blond former Death Eater. Harry turned away from them and noticed that everyone seemed to be having some sort of conversation. Some of them talked about absolutely nothing with topics that barely even seemed to touch on what was going on outside in the Wizarding world. Others were completely focused on the war and the Ministry. Harry listened to a few of the conversations and after a few minutes shook his head and began to tune them out, focusing instead on eating and what he would be doing the next morning.

He hadn't planned on having to sneak out of a house full of people, but he knew he'd do it anyway. He had to leave or he would be driven insane. It had taken him too long already. He had never planned on returning to Hogwarts and that was very well true, but he had also planned on going after the Horcruxes earlier. His first stop would be Gringotts to pick up money and deal with a few other matters that the goblins wanted to talk to him about which they had not elaborated on in the letter they had sent him a few days before. And then he would go to Godric's Hollow.

-

-

-

Everything was black. No. It wasn't black – it was darkness. It filtered over Hermione, hiding something in its cloudy entrapment. She could feel their annoyance streaming down at her and if she looked up at the clouds above her she could see pixels of light dancing on the edges of the darkness. They wanted to make a picture. They wanted to show her something. She wanted to know – she needed to see what they would show her.

It had been dark for a long time now and every once in a while she felt it go cold and she felt as if she would never again feel warmth, and then the warmth would come back. Other times it was too hot – stifling, like flames erupting around her, and now everything was okay, everything but the darkness that refused to leave.

Hermione walked forward, looking down at the ground that wasn't there. She hadn't figured it out yet. She was walking on something but she couldn't see it as far as she could tell. She looked up again a second later. She had to do something. She needed to see those images the light wanted to show her.

She willed herself to see them – that's how she had managed to make out the outline of the figure that had been talking to her the last time. Nothing happened. She gave a frustrated grunt.

It was stupid, this place she was stuck in with no semblance of reason. Nothing was made up of facts, and everything changed every day. Just last week she had been stuck in a monsoon, staring at a dark sky, her entire being drenched in the water that fell around her, filling up wherever it was that she had landed herself in.

Hermione could feel it crying out above the clouds, pushing and pulling at them, trying to get to her. Hermione cried with them. She wanted the light, she wanted nothing more than to reach out towards the light and ignore this blank darkness that completely surrounded her.

The clouds parted suddenly, but only for a second, and Hermione was almost blinded by the light that once she could have stared straight at without anything bothering her. As it was, she had not seen proper light in – why, she didn't even know how long she had been in this place.

In that second two things happened. The first being a picture falling at her feet, and the second that the darkness dissipated and while the clouds remained above her, now she was in a dimly lit room, as if something or someone had suspected that she would rather that than the light that had first shone right at her. It was cold and as she reached for the photograph that had fallen in front of her Hermione finally felt the cold chilling breeze that was wiping around her.

The picture was of a place she found faintly familiar; a plain white room with unused cots except for one. It was that used cot that Hermione focused on, for the person lying on it was her. And next to her on a chair, holding her hand was a boy – no, a man – that was unmistakably Harry Potter.

There had been whispers about him. The darkness and the rain, even the warmth had vibrated with the sound of his name and other unnamed emotions. And there he was in the picture, staring at her still body with a determined expression.

Then the photo changed. The wind wiped at her and it flew off her hand before she could see it, and she took her chance of looking around as she began to run after it. Water surrounded a small expanse of land on which she stood. Nothing else was on it as she should have expected as she began to chase the picture.

It stopped suddenly, just out of reach of the water and she came to stop right above it. The man in this picture was staring into a sunset with a thoughtful expression. Hermione's first thought was that he was beautiful.


	7. Reactions

**Author's Note: **Same set up as last chapter, I think. Really enjoyed the characterization in this one. Thanks for all the reviews, and enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, and Imogen.

**_Chapter Seven  
_**

_Reactions_

_August 1, 1998_

Draco could hardly describe the overwhelming maelstrom of emotions that had erupted inside him. Snape was in his mind. He was watching the memory that Draco had hid from him for as long as he could, and more than that he was seeing a side of Draco that Draco had tried to leave behind. Draco yearned to make the memory longer, to make Snape stay within his mind longer than was necessary so could have just a moment longer before the explosion he expected from his mentor came. And then Snape pulled away. His eyes were burning with some sort of emotion Draco couldn't put a name to though he imagined it something along the lines of protectiveness. It was not, Draco knew, focused on him but rather on the Harry in his memory. There was also anger, and regret and fear.

Draco turned away from the onyx eyes and tried hard to keep the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. He was better than that, damn it! He was a Malfoy. He did not cry.

He heard Snape move without a word and strained to hear if Snape was just leaving him there in the middle of nowhere. No. He heard Snape sit down. Draco almost sighed in relief, but then he realized that Snape was still going to confront him about this matter. Draco shifted slightly. He could still feel the magical drain that had happened when the souls had entered his being and he doubted that he would be able to stand up.

Draco didn't know how long he had sat there considering every single scenario that his mind could generate about the talk that would undoubtedly come to pass between him and Snape sometime that night, but at some point Snape must have moved, because suddenly he was there, offering Draco his hand. Hesitantly Draco took it, and Snape pulled him to his feet without a word, and then without warning he apparated and Draco felt as if his entire body was being compressed and passed through a small little tube. Then it was over. He felt dizzy and disoriented and a headache was raging inside his head.

Snape led him towards the shabby looking house they had apparated in front of and allowed him to lean against him. That Snape was allowing this much after learning that Draco had wanted to hurt his son enough to cast the Cruciatus was heartening to Draco, but it also made him feel even more ashamed. He wasn't worthy of having someone like Snape looking after him. Potter was, Draco thought with a snort, and he, Draco, was to blame for why Potter hated Snape. Even more guilt crowded all the feelings pulsing around his head, adding to the headache that had never once been a result of apparition for him.

"Sit," Snape said in his usual snappish tone, pushing Draco into an arm chair.

Draco sat.

Snape walked away and came back a second later, pushing a potion phial into his hand. Draco took it and brought it to his lips. It tasted bitter though it smelled amazingly soothing. Draco drank it down and Snape took the phial from his hand at once, while Draco began to feel the easing of his headache. It would take at least another minute for it to take full affect, but already he could feel the changes in his perception of the things around him.

"I trust you are feeling better," Snape said.

Draco nodded.

Snape didn't say anything for a few minutes, and then he spoke again, "I can see that I have failed you," Snape said. "I never meant for you to ever use the dark arts malevolently."

Draco knew this was the beginning of a lecture. He had heard enough of them from his father when he was younger, all of them detailing the failings of muggleborns and muggles. Draco knew better now about everything his father had preached and while at times it still did irk him that muggleborns weren't taught anything about their world the moment they found out they were magical, Draco had learned to accept that pure blood was far from being important.

"I didn't mean to," Draco said in a whisper.

"Yes, you did, Draco," Snape said calmy. "That is perhaps what scares me more. That you knowingly used this spell fueled with hatred for Harry – the person that very well stands between the loss of all our lives and victory."

Draco didn't like the calmness that the Potions Master seemed to just give off at him. It was strange; it was unnerving; it was everything that Draco had not expected from him. Draco wringed his hands in a nervous manner and tried hard to not let Snape's words come too close to heart.

"Draco, without thought, you used that spell intending to hurt him. You yourself have been subject to that spell since then. You know how it feels. And you were going to use it on another human being. Forget that he is my son. Forget that he is Harry bloody Potter. You were willing to hurt another human being."

"I know!" Draco cried. "And don't you think I felt terrible about it afterwards?"

"I don't think you did," Snape said. "You wouldn't have done what you did otherwise."

Draco felt a blush creeping over his skin. "You weren't helping me!" Draco screamed at him. "All you ever said was to just be patient. I couldn't wait any longer. I was under so much pressure by that point and when Potter came into that bathroom and he wouldn't leave I had to do something and that was the first spell that came to my mind. I wanted him to feel pain. While he was there in school with his friends without a notice to anyone else I was struggling with this burden and he the supposed savior of the Wizarding world cherished for something that he did as a baby was pampered and I couldn't handle it anymore."

"That's no excuse," Snape said and then with a shake of his head continued, "And you know nothing of what Harry's life has been like."

Draco's eyes narrowed on him. "What? Poor little Harry Potter didn't have a mum and dad, after all I wasn't aware you were in his life before this year as far more than a Professor. Being the Boy-Who-Lived his relatives must have pampered him. He's probably with them now still celebrating his birthday."

Draco knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment Snape stood up. "I will not tell you what his life has been like, Malfoy," Snape snapped. "You know nothing about Harry to claim such a thing and I can see now that I have misjudged you greatly." With that he turned on his heel and walked to the door of the room. "If you go up the stairs you will find a room on the right hand side that you can use. This topic will never be brought up again. Practice your occlumency."

That strange calm voice that Snape used on him and the strange glimmer in his eyes scared him. Snape was never this calm, at least Draco had never seen him like this. Something had changed his godfather drastically and Draco had the inkling that that thing had been Harry Potter, but he wasn't entirely sure. What had Potter done to him?

-

-

-

_August 28, 1998_

Harry felt a hand touch his shoulder, just as he reached for the doorknob.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Ginny whispered.

Harry took a deep breath and then turned to look at her. "I am," he said softly.

Ginny nodded. "I thought you were. That's why I stayed down here. I"—she blushed—"I thought I'd beg for you to stay, but, I guess you probably have your reasons." She looked away and seemed to be trying to come up with something to say to him.

For all of Harry's curiosity, he didn't really want to know what Ginny had to say to him. The twin's words played within his mind and he was almost positive that Ginny was mustering up all of her bravery to say this to him. It took Harry a few seconds to decide that he would let her and then with as much compassion as he could he would let her down and be one his way.

He didn't expect, then, for Ginny to stand up on the tips of her toes and to bring his face as close as she could before she pressed her lips against his.

Harry froze.

Ginny's arms were around his neck and her lips were moving against his in a very pleasant manner, but Harry couldn't kiss her back. She pulled away suddenly and frowned at him.

Harry opened his mouth to tell her anything that could dissuade her from continuing on with this crush that she seemed to have for him, but he couldn't say a thing. Instead he turned, opened the door, and left. He faintly heard Ginny calling his name as he took off at a run down the street.

He came to stop after running for a few minutes and he was tempted heavily to go back t o Grimmauld Place to explain to Ginny that he didn't like her that way, but after a moment's deliberation he continued walking down the street, hoping to find somewhere where he could apparate safely without anyone noticing him.

Harry found a small alley about ten minutes later and slipped into it casually. He apparated as soon as he was sure no one would see him, directly into another alley within walking distance of The Leaky Cauldron. There weren't many people out this early in the morning, Harry realized, looking at the usually packed street. Some of the shops weren't even open though a few were and for a moment Harry was tempted with wanting to go exploring. With a shake of his head, however, Harry headed towards The Leaky Cauldron, realizing at once, that he had not once entered the pub since his stay during the summer before his third year after he had blown up his aunt.

A small smile made it to his face when remembering that night. It hadn't been as funny then, but now in his mind's memory the event caused him to even let out a chuckle.

The aroma that came with a well cooked meal hit Harry the moment he stepped inside the pub and Harry remembered then that he had yet to have breakfast. Tom was behind the bar as usual, talking to a witch that Harry recognized as being a professor at Hogwarts, though he couldn't remember her name. He thought she was the Ancient Runes professor though he wasn't quite sure.

Other people were in The Leaky Cauldron as well and Harry recognized a few of them though he tried to not get himself any attention. Tom, however, noticed him at once and after saying something hastily to the Hogwarts professor made his way towards Harry.

"Anything I can help you with, Mr. Potter?" He asked.

"Breakfast would be nice, Tom," Harry said. "I would also be grateful if I could do with some privacy."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," Tom said. He then led Harry to a table in the far back where he could see everyone around him, but they couldn't quite see him.

"Thank you," Harry said. "I trust everything is well here."

"As well as anything can be," Tom said. "With everything going on at the ministry it is best to keep your nose clean of course, but there is talk of course about something else going on right now, Mr. Potter. Things are changing and some not for the better."

Harry nodded thoughtfully as Tom turned and walked back to the bar. Harry took a moment to make sure that no one in the pub could cause him harm and found that other than a man that sat hooded near one corner of the room everyone seemed amiable enough.

Tom returned with Harry's breakfast a few minutes later and placed it in front of him. Harry grinned. This was perfect.

"Thank you, Tom," Harry said and then before Tom could walk away asked, "Who is that gentlemen over there, the one by the corner."

"The hooded fellow?" Tom asked.

"Yes," Harry said.

"I didn't get a good look at him, if I'm to be honest. He came in, ordered some food and sat down; has been in here for a large part of an hour."

Harry nodded. "Does he come here often?"

"I saw him here last week," Tom said.

Harry looked towards the strange hooded man again and then turned back to Tom. "How much will this be? I rather pay now than have to leave in a hurry if anyone realizes I am here."

"Oh, but there is no need, Mr. Potter, I wouldn't hear of it."

Harry reached for his bag of coins regardless, but Tom shook his head and walked away.

Harry wondered if he should push it, but instead began to eat, hoping that everything would go as planned and he didn't have to whip out his wand for anything. As he ate his thoughts went back to Ginny and he wondered how he was ever going to solve that predicament. He was sure he could send her a letter. But it was so unfeeling and it could easily be intercepted unless he used Kreacher, but he didn't deem this an important enough reason to use the elf to carry his mail. While Harry had asked Kreacher to come to his aid whenever he called for him and to help Harry with getting word to Order members, sending a letter with so trifle a matter as a crush really was not something that Harry had intended that help to wind up doing.

He finished his breakfast quickly, savoring the taste of the bacon as he stood up, throwing the hood of his light cloak over his head as he made his way towards the backdoor of the pub and towards Diagon Alley.

Harry had known it would be a risk to enter Diagon Alley through The Leaky Cauldron. Anything could have gone wrong had the wrong people been in the pub, but he was lucky to have found no one that had truly meant him harm, even if that one man had seemed oddly suspicious.

Harry stepped towards the brick wall and brought out his wand, tapping it in the same pattern that he had seen Hagrid do back when he had first brought Harry there to shop for his school supplies on his eleventh birthday. The wall opened and Harry stepped into the cobbled street.

Even though it was still quite early, Harry found that more people than he had expected were walking around Diagon Alley. Harry, however, saw no children or even teenagers anywhere. It appeared that most parents were buying their children's supplies for Hogwarts for them. Harry wondered, then, if McGonagall had decided to allow first years to come to Hogwarts. But without wands, what would happen? Harry looked towards Ollivanders, closed and looking empty.

Other shops were also gone and witches and wizards, either used to the fact that they were closed, or wanting to get their shopping done in case anything happened, rushed past them without even giving them a second glance.

Harry stepped around a group of witches and made his way to the Wizarding Bank, wondering exactly what the goblins wanted with him.

He walked up the white stone steps towards the goblin that stood right outside the doors and offered him a small smile as he lowered his hood. The goblin simply bowed as Harry entered and faced the second set of doors with the engraved warning to anyone that wanted to steal anything from within Gringotts. Harry stepped past those doors and entered the familiar enormous room with the goblins sitting behind their long counter, all of them looking importantly busy. Harry walked forward, towards the counter and found a goblin that did not look as busy as the others.

"Good Morning, Mr. Potter," The goblin said without even bothering to look up from a piece of parchment.

"Good Morning," Harry replied. "I received a letter a few days ago asking me to come here."

"Ah, yes," the goblin said. "In fact there are many things that we must discuss with you, Mr. Potter."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Oh, yes," he said and then called for another goblin. "Take Mr. Potter to the meeting room. I will be there within a few minutes to talk to him."

Harry followed after the goblin that had been called and became ever more curious as to what was going on.

-

-

-

Faye knew he had left the moment she woke up that morning in an empty bed as usual. She sighed. Lucius had woken up far too early again and somehow managed to leave their room without waking her up. She knew he was up to something. He was a Slytherin and far more than that, he was Lucius Malfoy. He had to be up to something. Faye stretched luxuriously in bed and then swung her legs out of the warm confines of her sheets. She dressed quickly, slipped on her shoes, made sure that her hair was not standing on end, and walked out of her and Lucius' room.

The smells of breakfast being cooked wafted up to her and she smiled. The pleasure of eating a good freshly cooked meal was something that she was used to now, but it hadn't always been like that while she remained a prisoner of the first war. She had never once figured out who had kept her even after Voldemort was destroyed, but she had vowed long before that she would find out one day and when she did whoever it was, was going to pain.

"I see you're contemplating killing someone," the drawling voice of the only man she had ever loved said from somewhere behind her.

She laughed and turned around "You know, Lucius, I could easily be thinking about killing you, if only to learn what you have been hiding from me these past few weeks."

"You will not find out," he said and without anything else to add, walked past her down the stairs.

"I will figure it out," Faye called after him.

She heard him laugh and found herself smiling before she followed after him, she nearly ran straight into Lucius when she got to the bottom step.

"Do you hear that?" He asked.

"Hear what?"

"The silence," Lucius told her, turning to face her. "Everyone is sleeping and the smell of food is in the air, like the days before those Weasleys moved in here."

Faye snorted. "Lucius, I told you to behave," she said a second later. "They are important to Harry for one, and for two they are in the same side you are."

"That does not mean they are equal to me," Lucius said. "That Weasley woman wanting to cook! Why, it's unheard of. She should know better than to try and do the job of a house elf."

Faye laughed. "Not everyone was brought up as you were, with everyone doing everything to please your every desire."

Lucius huffed. "I was not spoiled. I simply always got my way."

Faye chose not to answer and walked past him towards the kitchen.

"He left," Lucius said suddenly, coming up behind her. "I noticed it at once. Did you know?"

Faye nodded. "It's the beginning of what he has to do."

Lucius didn't answer.

-

-

-

Hermione felt something shifting in the air. It wasn't the wind, which at times seemed to want to knock down the one tree that had sprung up in the middle of the island just three days before (if Hermione was right by her calculation of time). Hermione had been waiting for the tree to fall since the wind had started the day before, but every time it came close, it stopped. Hermione had found its entire behavior odd, but with everything else that seemed to be going on in wherever it was that she was, Hermione hadn't paid too much mind. And now something was changing.

The grains of sand beneath her feet were hot. Long gone was the cold darkness, and now only the sun shone high over her head. The heat was killing her.

Her hair was held up with two twin branches of the tree, but even with her hair off her neck and face, Hermione had no comfort. She wore only her undergarments now and tried to stay within the shadow of the tree, wishing for water that was not as hot or brackish as the one that surrounded her, mocking her.

With a tanned hand, Hermione reached up to wipe at her sweat covered brow and closed her eyes, willing the scorching sun to disappear. It didn't. With the same hand she reached for the sand and allowed the brownish-gray grains run through her fingers and fall back to the ground. She repeated the motion again and again.

A bird flying above her gave a thrill. Hermione looked up at once but she couldn't see it. All she could hear was its song and she didn't know if there even was a bird and if the heat was the reason she was hearing this disembodied sound.

She stood up slowly and reached for the tree behind her, but it was gone. Everything was spinning and changing. Around her, colors dissolved into different shapes and whirled around again, not stopping at something specific. And then there was darkness again. But it was lighter. It was different.

Hermione felt the ground underneath her feet start to move and then it fell apart and fell from under her. Hermione tried to scream but nothing came out as she fell in the darkness. And then she heard the bird singing again though once more she couldn't see it.

Everything stopped suddenly and Hermione hung midair. Shadows of random objects surrounded her. Hermione tried to move but her limbs weren't working. Inside she was screaming for everything to move again, for things to go back to how they had once been, and then she was falling again.

With a thump she hit the ground, suddenly, and a number of things fell around her creating loud crashes of things within the small enclosed space that she now found herself in. Her eyes searched over the room. It was a small room made up of brick walls. There was no door, but the ceiling was also missing and Hermione could barely make out what seemed to be a rainbow shinning over the small room she had fallen into.


	8. Learning from the Past

**Author's Note: **For those of you who enjoyed the Draco and Severus scene from last chapter, you'll enjoy this, I think. Anyway, enjoy, and please review.

Little edit: for some reason a few words in the last sentence were cut off, but I fixed it.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, and Imogen.

**_Chapter Eight  
_**

_Learning from the Past_

_August 2, 1998_

Draco didn't know if it was possible for Snape to glare at him more, than after he had failed for what could have been the tenth time, to keep him from entering his mind.

"Concentrate, Draco," Snape said. "Again."

Draco tried to prepare himself for the assault on his mind, but within moments the walls he had tried to build over his mind fell, and Snape once more flooded in, and Draco felt the sharp, burning fire of Snape's mind touching his own.

When after eating breakfast, Snape had told him they were going to be practicing his occlumency, Draco had hoped that this was Snape's way of telling him they would be alright. But after the torture that had been inflected on him through this lesson, Draco had decided this was some form of Snape's punishment for him.

Snape pulled back again. "You're not trying," he said at once and then walked around to stand behind his desk.

The desk was made of a dark rich wood and sat in the middle of the room. It was, for the most part, quite messy – something he had never expected from his potions professor – but it also, for a personal office, didn't seem to contain much to either give away Snape's personality, or for that matter his secrets.

"I'm not a natural at this, not like you are," Draco said, itching to add that he wasn't like Harry Potter either, and that things like this did not come to him as easily as they seemed to come for the Boy-Who-Lived. "You knew this from the beginning," he added instead."

Snape barely acknowledged that Draco had spoken and instead began to rifle through one of the drawers on his desk.

Draco walked forward, curious to see what the drawer contained.

"What are you looking for, Professor?" Draco asked.

"Notes on a potion," Snape said without looking up. A few seconds later he continued," I can see that you're not ready to truly defy the Dark Lord without giving yourself away. I do, however, have a potion that will help you. It's quite unpleasant, but I fear this is the only way."

Snape was up to something, Draco decided. He had been up to something the previous day before Draco was attacked by the souls. It was obvious to him now, that Snape had not done what he had wanted to do because of it. Somehow, his being versed with occlumency was something that affected whatever Snape was planning.

"What will it do to me?"

Snape didn't answer at once, instead he continued going through the contents of his desk. When he did answer, he had closed his drawer and seemed to be holding the notes he had been searching on the potion.

"It will make you revile your worst memories," Snape said at last. "It will be very unpalatable, but the moment you face all your fears and emotions, your mind will be clear enough that hiding your thoughts becomes much easier. It also does help to strengthen you on that font. In light of what you have done and the thoughts that still flutter around your head, this potion will help you emphatically."

"How long will the potion take to do this to me?" Draco asked at once.

Snape dropped the things he had gathered from his drawer atop his desk and sank into his chair. "That depends," he said finally. "It all depends on you, Draco, and how willing you are to facing everything. It will take no longer than three days."

Draco didn't at all like the idea of taking such a potion. Just the very thought of this potion bringing back everything that had happened in the last year to the forefront of his mind didn't appeal to him.

"Why do I have to do this?" He asked instead of giving Snape an answer in the positive or negative. When Snape didn't make a move to answer, he continued. "I know I can't possibly learn to shield my mind from him within the next few weeks on my own, but you don't have to tell me certain things. I can be entirely ignorant of everything the Order is doing – of whatever you're doing – while I learn to use this."

Snape shook his head at once. "You need to help me with this and occlumency is the only way you will manage to be of any assistance to me as was proved to me yesterday."

Draco couldn't help the blush that crawled over his pale skin at the thought of what had happened the day before with the souls.

Snape ignored it and Draco pegged it to the fact that Snape probably didn't want to think about what had happened in the bathroom months before between him and Potter.

"I want you to take the potion," He said.

"Is there no other way I can learn this damned skill so I could do whatever it is the bloody Order wants me to do."

Snape sighed. "Draco," he began, but then stopped. He stood up and walked around the desk, coming to stand directly in front of him. "You said yourself," he said in a silent tone, "you have no real talent or comprehension for occlumency. With this knowledge alone I can tell you it will take you months to learn how to hide your true thoughts. This potion with accelerate that. By this time next week, if everything goes as well as I think it will, you will not only be capable of hiding your thoughts, but you will know yourself better."

Draco knew that Snape was right, and he hated even admitting it to himself. This potion was going to help him whether he believed it or not. And it was, he realized one of the few ways that he would begin to prove himself to the Order and – he hated to even admit it – to Harry Potter. It would be pain and it would bring forth memories that he didn't care to even think about, but for his sacrifices, it would make him a better person.

"Fine," he said finally. "I'll take the potion."

-

-

-

_August 3, 1998_

Draco wringed his hands together and nervously looked around the grimy pub that Snape had steered him into. He tried hard not to make eye contact with any of the grubby looking witches and wizards that sat around the bar. The pub was dimly lit, and it was crawling with dark magic. He tried hard to hide his face with the hood of his cloak where he sat in the corner of the room behind a small round table. Snape had pushed him into the chair and told him that under no conditions was he allowed to leave. Draco knew better than to go against anything Snape said, and stared hard at the table in front of him while he waited for Snape to come back. He was somewhere in the room, Draco knew, though he could not spot him.

Draco sighed and dropped his head on the table, picking it up a second later with a shudder. The tables were clearly unclean and Draco had felt a somewhat sticky substance where his chin had rested for half a second. Draco brought out a handkerchief and wiped his chin clean of anything that could have possibly made it to his flawless skin. He then leaned as far as possible for the table and lifted his head to look around once more. And there, Snape was talking to the proprietor of the pub.

Maybe he was almost done with whatever business he had wanted to conduct in this shifty pub and they could leave, and Draco could get back to the wonderful confines of Malfoy Manor where he could take a two hour long bath. He had been rather surprised when Snape had announced that morning – the morning Draco had been dreading since the previous day – that they would first head to Knockturn Alley and then to Malfoy Manor where Draco would take the potion later that night once Snape had brewed it. Draco suspected it was Snape's wish to use his father's potions lab rather than his own that would remain the reason that Draco would at least get a good long hot soak in the tub before he had to face all of his fears through the means of a small glass phial and an illegal ingredient that Snape had finally acquired.

He followed Snape with his eyes and watched as his companion nodded, extended out a hand to the pub owner and the two men shook hands, and then Snape was heading his way.

"Come, Draco, we're leaving," Snape said and without another word strode towards the exit.

Draco jumped out of the rather uncomfortable chair he had been occupying and walked briskly after the Potions Master without a backwards glance at the table that he had just vacated, keeping his head to the ground so he didn't have to meet the stares that watched him as he left.

"So, what happened?" Draco asked the moment they were outside.

Snape didn't answer and instead continued walking, which Draco supposed, he should have expected. Snape led him down the street just a bit farther and then came to a stop.

"Just two more stops," Snape told him, turning to face him. "I expect you to remain right here within my sight while I enter this"—he seemed to be searching for a word to describe the dingy apothecary they stood in front of—"establishment," he finally spat and turned towards the door.

An odd almost faint odor escaped out of the apothecary and Draco was glad that he had not been told to go inside with Snape.

-

-

-

"How long will it take to brew, Severus?" Draco heard his mother ask from somewhere down the hall.

Draco tried to ignore Snape's response. He didn't want to know the exact time when he would have to drink the potion that would leave him incapable of doing anything for up to three days. All he wanted to do was to focus on the feeling of the hot bath the elves had drawn for him filled with bubbles just like when he had been a child – they were bubbles of all colors, some sung as they were popped, others recited a sonnet (his mother had been the one to make sure they did that), and a few chirped.

His robe pooled at his feet before he stepped into the small luxurious pool. It was not at big as what could be found in the prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts, but it was big enough to fit Draco and at least five more people without it getting crowded or uncomfortable.

He sighed with pleasure as his pale feet grazed the water and then sunk past the bubbles. Draco lowered his body slowly into the tub and contentment filled him as the water surrounded all but his head. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. A right and proper bath – Draco decided as one of the bubbles popped and have a chirp – could many any day a better day.

The tension he had been feeling in his muscles since two days before when he had been unconscious in the middle of nowhere was leaving him slowly and steadily and Draco couldn't help another satisfied sigh – the worry of what he would be doing later completely overshadowed by the wonderful feeling that the warm water was bringing his body. All the worries that had plagued him since the night he fled Hogwarts with Snape were no longer at the front of his mind though they would come back later, instead they were floating around the back of his mind not bothering him for once.

Before Draco knew it, he had fallen asleep. The elves had done too good job fixing his bath just as he liked it, that with the fatigue that came with knowing that he would be facing all of his fears and problems later he had fallen asleep within minutes of being deep in the bath.

Draco woke up about an hour later when he felt something tickling his ear. He shuddered and turned his face. His mother was kneeling next to the small pool with a small almost forced smile.

"I thought you might enjoy some food and perhaps sleep in your own bed before you have to take the potion," she told him.

"Yes. Alright. Thank you, Mother," Draco said.

She nodded and walked towards the door. She stopped suddenly, and Draco turned completely around to look at her.

"I'll be with you the entire time, Draco. You don't have to be scared of this. It takes courage to do what you are doing."

Draco allowed her words to drift over him, but he didn't respond. He knew his mother would see it that way. He heard her open and door, step out of the room, and close it behind her and he sighed.

-

-

-

The potion burned as it went down his throat. Draco grimaced as he finished every last drop and reached to rub at his throat. His mother was sitting across the room, her back straight, her eyes staring unmoving at a leather bound book. Snape was standing in front of him, his face blank. Draco took both of them in. It was strange, he thought as the cream walls began to spin, to find Snape and his mother acting so calmly as he drank the potion that would make him relive all of his mistakes.

And then the spinning of the room stopped and he felt weariness and fatigue come over him. His knees were weak. He felt them give out from under him, and then colors were swirling before his eyes.

The first thing that made him realize the potion had begun to take effect was the wafting smell of pancakes. Draco knew immediately what memory this was and he knew it wasn't going to be something he would enjoy reliving.

He was swinging his legs back and forth, all the while sitting on his spot at the mahogany wooden table that all meals were eaten on. His mother was sitting across from him, eating slowly and looking rather disdainfully at the pancakes that sat in front of Draco. In Narcissa Malfoy's opinion, pancakes were not proper food for breakfast. She was having a grapefruit quarter with her strong tea, a piece of buttered toast and a small portion of scrambled eggs. Draco's father was eating much of the same, though he had a larger portion of food on his plate and he was also enjoying a small miniscule pancake, while reading the Daily Prophet.

Draco didn't know how it began, though he remembered hearing his father give a sigh right before his mother muttered something under her breath. Draco remembered clearly when his father dropped his newspaper and slammed his hand down on the table, glaring at his mother. And though Lucius said nothing, the tension in the room was palpable.

Two boys were fighting. Draco could see them from afar and wondered for a moment who they were before he walked towards them and he was face to face with a six year old version of himself. Shock and surprise encompassed him and Draco didn't know what he was supposed to do. He had been expecting more recent memories – things that had he had done in the last year or two, but not back to when he was six. He could barely even remember what had occurred on this afternoon some eleven years ago.

Draco watched the other boy – Theodore Nott, he thought – and was astonished when he saw the other boy fall hard, with an audible thump, against the nearest wall, pushed by Draco's wandless, accidental magic. Draco rushed forward and noticed at once that not only was Theo unconscious, but that the younger Draco seemed completely unaffected by it, almost as if he didn't realize that what he had done was wrong. Draco waited for something to happen, all the while searching within his mind for this memory, and then he heard someone running down the hall towards them. It was his mother looked far younger than the woman he knew of the present. For a moment she had a moment of indecision – not knowing if she should yell or run to make sure that Theo was alright. A few seconds later, she rushed to Theo's side and reprimanded Draco as she waved her wand over the other boy.

"But, Mom!" Draco, the younger, cried. "He took my dragon and he wouldn't give it back." He sniffed.

Draco could have snorted at the sight. Here he was at the age of six and already attempting to manipulate his mother after committing a crime. Draco wondered if he was like that because of his father. Assuming that this was the reason was, he realized, far easier than to accept that there was no one else to blame but himself for everything he had done.

"That does no excuse this, Draco," his mother was saying to the six year old version of himself. "In fact, I don't think you will be seeing that dragon of yours for a few weeks." She wanted to say something more, but stopped herself. "Go, Draco," she said instead, "and please think about the fact that you could have killed your friend today with your anger."

Realization hit the gray eyes of the six year old, though Draco knew that he, at that age, could not have truly understood what his mother meant.

Everything changed then.

Draco felt dizzy, everything was whirling around him, and he felt as if he himself was spinning hard and fast on the spot. Then he was falling. Colors swiveled round and round in his eyes and expanded until they slowly settled down. Draco stood in a familiar room and tried to remember what had happened here that he needed to remember.

The only source of light was a pale white candle. It was sitting on a small rickety table, hot wax pooling around its base as it dripped down. Some feet away from the candle, hidden in shadow, two figures stood. Although he couldn't make them out, Draco recognized their voices at once. One of them belonged to him, and the other to his father.

The younger Draco's voice shook as he spoke and from the flickering light from the candle he could make out that he was pale and decidedly scared though he was trying hard to hide it. His father's voice, however, Draco realized just as he hadn't realized it within the memory, had interlaid within its usual coldness and indifference worry and anger.

"Alright, Father," The sixteen year old Draco said, coming fully into view by moving closer to the candle.

Draco knew at once what memory was playing before him when he realized that his sixteen year old self was shaking and looked ready to collapse. Pain was edged around the grimace that he displayed every once in a while, and as if using a nervous habit, this Draco kept touching his left arm.

His father looked as if he wanted to say something when he walked close enough for Draco to look at him – though the sixteen year old missed the wistful expression on Lucius' face by focusing on the candle.

When Lucius spoke a few seconds later it was clear to Draco that this wasn't what he had wanted to say before.

"He will expect more from you, Draco, than what happened today," his father said. This time his voice did not hold any emotion at all.

Draco moved closer to the table with the candle and closer to where his father stood. He hadn't seen him in a year and even looking at this memory of him made him wonder how exactly his father was faring at the moment. He hadn't thought about this for months, throwing it all to the back of his mind while he had worried about the task that he had been given him.

He wondered if his father was currently in some cell, covered only by rags that had once been his clothes but now did not resemble the expensive cloak Draco had last seen him wear. He wondered if he was as insane as his Aunt Bella was said to have become after being in Azkaban – but Draco had always imagined the Black family line to have a touch of insanity.

Draco shook himself and threw thoughts about his father to a place in his mind to be thought about later. Maybe he could inquire after him. Maybe Snape could help him get his father out of prison if Draco learned occlumency.

The memory Lucius looked pained now. This was a look that Draco had never seen his father wear and it disturbed him. The sixteen year old, as expected, noticed nothing.

"I'll do better, Father," said Draco. "I've been working on it. I think I've almost got the unforgivables down. Aunt Bella said she would say when I had."

Draco recognized the search for approbation in his own voice, but continued to look not at this younger naïve Draco, but at his father.

Lucius was trying to hide a grimace as if he did not approve of what Draco was doing. Then again he had wound up being a spy. Maybe he hadn't wanted Draco to become like him, and Draco had emulated him so – that had been a mistake.

This time there were no colors, only shades of gray spinning around him at a dizzying pace. And then he was floating.

Memory after memory made an onslaught at him. They were in all varying degrees of order. In one he was eight and he had just broken something of his mother's after being punished, in another he was eleven and he had stolen something from another boy in Slytherin. Others related his mistakes of the last year or so and those were the ones he paid more attention to.

The sixteen year old Draco was hooded. He was afraid to admit that he was acting far more like his father than he wanted to as he made his way down the shady alley towards the backdoor entrance to the pub where he would be getting the poison.

The liquid would be untraceable. If he could get Dumbledore to drink it then everything would work out and all the pressure would be off. His mother would be fine and he would just continue with school and nothing would go wrong. Draco tried to tell himself that what he was doing was right and that he didn't need to listen to Snape.

The exchange was silent and the seventeen year old Draco upon this attack of his own thoughts, didn't know what to make of any of it. What he did know, however, was that what he had done was wrong. Snape had been in the right and he had gone through this stupid plan without thinking.

Again things swirled in the usual fashion that had become very familiar to Draco in the last number of hours that he had been trapped within his mind with the help of that damned potion. He didn't even know if it had just been hours, or longer.

He was in the bathroom again, suddenly.

He remembered that day as clearly as he remembered his hot bath from earlier.

He'd just finished talking to his Aunt as she mocked and teased him and asked him to hurry everything along and that he must want his poor dear mother to live. The potion had failed and everything was churning up in his gut. He wanted nothing more than a place to contemplate how to best go about everything and then Potter was there.

In hindsight, Draco realized that Potter was distraught. He was almost at the point of crying. His eyes were wild and he looked as if he needed more than Draco had needed at that moment, somewhere to think. Something had happened right before Potter entered the bathroom and Draco had to wonder if this had anything to do with Snape.

It was scary, Draco realized, to watch himself, deep anger on his face throw the cruciatus at Harry Potter. Even though it missed, knowing that he had had enough anger and hatred to throw it and at Harry Potter, the Chosen One, of all people deeply bothered him and he understood why Snape had been so angry at him.

Other memories followed and Draco watching himself with a grimace as he allowed the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. He had known about the cupboard that would allow them entrance since fifth year, but until his days spent in the infirmary after Potter's spell, Draco hadn't thought about it. And then he had cemented that plan in his brain. It had been easy from there to do the last few repairs on the cupboard. After all, Snape had fixed most of it fifth year when Montague had gotten trapped in it.

All of his mistakes were splayed out in front of him as well as other truths that he had refused to acknowledge until then. He felt a stirring within his skin and then he felt the softness of a cushion underneath his fingers. His mind was clear of everything and he accepted without much thought that he had done so many things wrong.

Draco opened his eyes and he found clearness to the world that had never before been there.


	9. Godric's Hollow

**Author's Note: **Sorry for not updating yesterday but I got caught up with a few things -- seeing Star Trek, as well as a creative writing workshop. Anyway, we meet a few new characters in this one. I'm not sure if they will be very important except for a few things that I do need them for. Anyway, enjoy the chapter and please review.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, and Artemis

**_Chapter Nine  
_**

_Godric's Hollow_

_September 1, 1998_

The colorful sounds of a couple screaming at each other from a few tables down was all that Harry heard when the dark haired girl that he supposed would be waiting on his table came to a stop in front of him with her pad ready. She was very pretty, Harry noted to himself as they both turned to face the fighting couple.

"I cannot believe you, you –" the woman, a tall red head that reminded a bit of Ginny – although Harry didn't quite want to think about the youngest Weasley anytime soon – cried as she was lead outside by the man she was screaming at.

It took only a few seconds for everyone to return to their previous conversations and Harry turned to look at his waitress. She smiled at him.

"They're always fighting," she said, and at seeing Harry's confused expression, continued, "They're regulars here and every night they fight over something. Usually they're not so loud so don't let them scare you off. We rarely ever get visitors around here. It's rather refreshing to see a new face."

Harry smiled and shifted his hands over the menu. "My parents lived here," he said at last. "They died here, actually, years and years ago and I thought about coming around here just to see where they lived."

The waitress frowned. "I thought when I first saw you that you looked familiar. Are you by any chance the Potter's son?"

"I am, actually. Harry Potter," Harry said, "pleased to meet you, and you are?"

"Echo," she answered and then laughed.

Harry repeated it to himself in his mind. Echo.

"I know it's a stupid name," she continued. "My mom's really into mythology. She named my brother Ares after the god of war. Dad always said that it was good for her to have some sort of interest like that. He always told me stories about the Potters. I guess you must know all about them seeing as they're your family, but the Potters have always been a little bit like a legend around here."

"Really?" Harry asked, and then added, "I don't know much about my parents, just the things a few of their friends have told me which isn't much really."

"Oh. Well, I could tell you what I—"

"Echo!"

Echo rolled her eyes at Harry. "Give me a sec," she said and turned, walking towards the man behind the counter that had called for her.

Harry watched them. The man said a few things to her, to which Echo rolled her eyes, nodded, or shook her head, all the while gesturing with her hands at times a little wildly. Finally she gave one more nod and walked back to Harry's table.

"My uncle," Echo explained. "He owns the place. He told me that seeing as I'm way too interested in talking to you I might as well finish my day off with taking your order."

Harry who had completely forgotten that he had entered the pub to get himself some dinner, laughed. "What do you recommend?"

"The fish and chips, naturally," said Echo.

"Yes, I rather think that sounds just about right."

"And to drink?"

Harry almost said pumpkin juice, but stopped himself just in time to say, "surprise me."

She smiled brightly. "Alright. I'll be right back. I think I'll join you for dinner. I haven't had any myself."

Harry nodded absentmindedly as she left, wondering what this girl could tell him about the Potters and perhaps even about the night when Voldemort had been destroyed and Lily and James killed.

A few minutes later, Echo took the seat across from him after handing Harry a coke can. "Food should be ready in ten minutes," she said

After a few seconds of silence, Echo spoke again, "How much do you know about them?"

"Nothing really," Harry said. "I'm actually here to see where they lived, to get some sort of inside as to the life they lead back then."

"A cloud of mystery has always surrounded the owners of the biggest house in Godric's Hollow," Echo said. "It wasn't that the Potters weren't decent people, or for that matter that they secluded themselves from everyone else around her. It was rather that they were odd."

Harry couldn't help a smile.

"William Potter was beloved by everyone. He helped my uncle get this place started. He was a bit of a philanthropist. I imagine he was your grandfather. Anyway, most of this town really benefited from him and his wife. They had three or two children. Two boys and a girl, I want to say. One of them was your father, right?"

"James Potter," Harry said just as another waitress, a girl that looked a lot like Echo except for her eyes, a light brown with specs of green, and the straight blond hair that was held up by what looked like a pencil.

"This is my sister, Artemis," Echo said.

"Hello," Artemis said with a tight lipped smile. She placed Harry's and Echo's food respectively in front of them. "Are you talking about the Potters?"

"Oh, yes," Echo said. "Don't you recognize him? It took me a little while too, but I finally saw the resemblance. It's a little lost on him, I'll admit. I guess he takes after his mother."

Artemis scrutinized him. "Harry Potter?" She asked in little more than a whisper.

Harry found hard to laugh. Even outside of the Wizarding world, it appeared, that he was famous.

Harry nodded.

Artemis blinked a couple of times before she turned and walked back the way she had come, ignoring the call of a man sitting a few tables away from Harry's.

Echo rolled her eyes. "My sister was more into the stories of your family than I was. There's a picture of your Grandfather and his family somewhere on that wall." She pointed to wall she was facing. It was covered in more than just photographs, but signatures, and old rusty signs and other such things. Harry itched to go take a closer look at it, but instead turned to his food.

It smelled delicious. He reached for his fork and stabbed into a richly golden potato and brought it to his mouth. He moaned with pleasure. He had forgotten just how hungry he had been when he first entered the pub.

"That good, eh?" Echo asked. She was laughing lightly and she too dug into the meal.

Harry nodded and continued eating.

"My mom was in love with your uncle," Echo announced between bites if her food. "They dated for about a year or so but then something happened with his parents and one day he just left and no one ever heard from him again."

Harry frowned. He had never heard about James Potter having any siblings, not even in the letter that James had written him. Everything that Harry had ever heard about the Potters told him that James Potter had been an only child, born to an older couple that pampered and spoiled him. And now Echo was telling him about James having a brother and sister.

"What was his name?" Harry asked, reaching for his can of coke.

"Emerson."

"And his sister's?" Harry asked. He brought the can to his lips and sipped some of the gaseous liquid which was actually quite nice and something that Harry faintly remembered having drunk before.

"Something with an R," Echo said. "My sister probably knows, I can ask her if you want."

"No. It doesn't matter," Harry said. "Tell me more."

Echo grinned. "Well, from everything I've been told, your father and his two siblings went to some boarding school in Scotland. Emerson was the oldest and he graduated the same year your father went to his first year, or he graduated the year before, but there was a ten year difference in their ages. A year after graduating he left the town."

She took a few bites of her food and then picked up on the story again.

"Your aunt was also older than your father, only by two years or so. She was different from both Emerson and James, people said. Stranger than all of the Potters put together – always staying inside, and muttering nonsensical things when she was out in public."

Echo paused to drink her own coke and smiled gently at Harry before taking a few spoonfuls into her mouth. Harry waited patiently, sipping at his own drink, before returning to his food.

The pub was still as full as ever, in fact more people had come in and were enjoying their meals on any space available – others were drinking to their hearts content.

"My mother said that sometimes it was as if the Potters only had one son," Echo said, continuing on.

"That's what I always thought," Harry admitted. "I never knew he had siblings. My – my cousin, he only ever mentioned James and he spent a great deal with my grandparents. His mother was my grandmother's sister."

Echo frowned. "Strange," she said in between bites.

Harry took a long sip of his soda, already growing quite fond of it as unhealthy as he knew the drink probably was for him. He thought for a second about getting Snape to try it and wondered what he would think of it. A few seconds later he shook the thought. Snape was a murderer and Harry needed to stop thinking about him as if he hadn't betrayed him. It had happened too much lately.

"I think James was the center of their worlds," she continued. "He could do no wrong. His sister seemed to belong to shadows. She too left them, a month or two after her older brother and some thought she had gone out to join him. After leaving for school one year she did not return. It was not strange, however, that she often left the house and did not come home for weeks even months. It was something everyone was so used to, that it took more than two months for everyone to realize that she was not coming back.

"Some said that she was not a Potter by blood, but that was never proven. As it was, when William and Araminta Potter died the year after he had graduated from his boarding school, James was left as the sole heir of the entire Potter fortune."

Harry finished the last of his food and sighed contently.

Echo smirked. "Seems you enjoyed it," she said.

"It was simply fantastic," Harry said.

"I guess you'll have somewhere to go now that you've been fed and watered."

"I'd rather hear the end of this story before I got off to find a place to stay in," Harry said.

"That shouldn't be too hard," Echo said. "After all, your house is probably ready for you to arrive. That's another odd thing. The house never needed anyone to attend it to. It just was. I imagine someone rebuilt after the fire, but since then it has remained as impeccable as the day it was first built, or so everyone around here says. Like magic."

It was the work of magic, Harry knew, or of house elves.

"After the death of his parents, James did not return to the town for a few years, and then when he did, he came back married and with a pregnant wife. He moved into the house in just one day – the house that hadn't even gained a drop of dust. His wife was nice enough, but people rarely ever saw her. They also never saw James except for on rare occasions. They often had one visitor. A man that James barely seemed to tolerate but who was on good terms with your mother."

Echo finished her food in a couple more bites and as soon as she finished chewing, wiped her lips with a napkin and drunk a large gulp of her soda.

"After you were born it's said that no one ever visited the Potter's ever again, and they never left the house. James who had been loved around here as a child had become a recluse, and he didn't seem to have the same want to help everyone around him like his father had. Then on Halloween, when you were one, my mother said, a strange man walked up to the house."

Voldemort, Harry thought, wondering how that night had looked in the Muggles' perspective.

"I think I was three when it happened," Echo said. "That night something happened in the house and after all the windows in the second floor were broken the house was on fire and fell into itself. The police and firemen tried to stop it, but it was as if something else was happening to it, making that impossible.

"My father was one of the firemen trying to save the house and see if any of you were alright. He was the one that found the body of your father. Slightly burned, but dead, lying underneath a beam. He was also the one that saw the two men rush towards the house just to come out a second later without even the smallest burn, carrying you, before they disappeared."

Harry frowned. Who could that have been? Not his father or Sirius. Remus? But, no, it couldn't have been him. Dumbledore? Maybe.

"That always confused everyone. For a while there was this whole investigation as to where you had gone, but no one ever found out anything. The house was destroyed, and then one day it just began to come to life again. It took just over two months for it to completely come back and then when it did it remained like that. No one's dared enter it since then."

Harry didn't know exactly how the magic of his parent's home seemed to be working. He wondered if he should risk going there tonight and face the unexpected.

"I'll take that, Mr. Potter."

Artemis was back and was motioning for him to hand her his empty plate.

"Oh, sorry," he said as he handed it to her.

"No worries," she said and walked towards the counter.

"Where could I possibly get a room for the night?" Harry asked Echo. "I think encountering the house would be best done in the light of day."

She grinned. "Would it surprise you if I said my parents own the inn next door?"

Harry laughed. "At this point I guess not."

Artemis returned a second later. "Food's on the house," she said. "The moment uncle heard it was a Potter I was serving he said not to bother with payment."

Harry felt his cheeks gain a tint of red.

"You're just too cute," Artemis cried suddenly and pat Harry's cheek. "I guess I can see now why mum was in love with your uncle if he looked like this."

"Artemis!" Echo said.

"Oh, Echo, you can't claim that you weren't thinking the same thing."

Echo blushed a deep red. Her sister laughed. "Anyway, Harry," she said, "Do you need somewhere to stay? If I were you I wouldn't go back to your house until morning. You could stay with us. There's extra room and it'd be more fun than the inn."

"Artemis –" Echo began.

"Oh, that's a great idea," a woman from behind Artemis said. She had Echo's hair, but Artemis' eyes and looked to be in her forties. "You're more than welcome t stay with us. In fact, I insist." She stepped closer. "I'm Cassie Holdcraft – these girls' mother." She extended out her hand for him to shake.

Harry took her slender hand and shook it. She had a loose grip on his hand and smiled at him before letting go.

"Harry Potter," he said. "It's nice to meet you."

"Such an educated boy," Cassie said. "So, what do you say?"

Harry didn't know exactly what he was getting himself into but nodded all the same.

"Well it's settled, then," Artemis said, taking off her apron and walking back to the counter where she dropped it.

Echo had her head in her hands and seemed to be trying to disappear into the ground. The entire thing, Harry thought, was going to be awkward if this was Echo's reaction.

A few minutes later, however, Echo was leading him out of the pub. The night was beautiful and it looked as if all the stars were out in the sky.

"My sister is so embarrassing," Echo said suddenly. "I hope it really is okay with you to stay with us. I know they'll all be asking you questions when they get home. I recommend pretending to be asleep."

"It's alright," Harry said. He was very used to people staring at him and being a little too involved in his life.

"So, where did you grow up?" Echo asked.

"Surrey," Harry said, "with my mum's sister and her husband. Neither really spoke much about my parents. I met my godfather when I was thirteen but he really wasn't stable enough to take me in. He died when I was fifteen. I assume he must have known my father had siblings, but he never once mentioned it."

"I'm sorry," Echo said. "It seems tragedy just surrounds your life."

"I guess it does seem that way," Harry admitted. "By now it's just something I've gotten used to."

They fell into silence and Harry was surprised at how comfortable it was.

"Want to look at your house?" Echo asked suddenly. "I don't think there's anyone home, right now anyway, and I guess you want to take a look around."

Harry had only seen a few things before he had entered the pub almost an hour earlier, and although it was night, the moon high above them and the stars that sparkled brilliantly in the sky gave enough light for Harry to take in the town. It was a peaceful place – the kind of place that he had always dreamed of living in, with people that seemed to all just know each other and expect nothing from other people. They would embrace him as one of their own and not bother him whatsoever.

"Yes," he said to Echo. "Let's take a look around."

She grinned back at him.

-

-

-

Ron let his mom hug him one last time and then he got on the train. His sister followed him and they went off in search of a compartment. Neither of them spoke as they went. Ron's thoughts traveled back to the subject they had been on since the morning of the previous day. He had never expected Harry to just take off without a word to anyone, although it was clear that Faye had known about it. Ginny, had also seen him before he left, and Ron knew something more than them saying goodbye had happened. He was aware of his sister's crush on Harry and hoped that she hadn't done something stupid like declare her love for him. Harry didn't need that when it was clear to him that Harry must have had more than friendly feelings for Hermione.

Ron wondered where Lavender was as he walked along the train. She had said she would meet him on the platform but she had been nowhere to be seen and now he couldn't even locate her on the train. He knew her Aunt had been hurt during the attack on the ministry but nothing should have made her late.

"Ron! Ron!"

Ron stopped and turned, and he saw her walking towards him and she looked just as beautiful as ever.

"Go on without me," Ron muttered to his sister, who didn't have to be told twice as she walked past him to continue her search of a compartment.

Suddenly Lavender was in front of him, and she let go of her trunk and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I missed you, Ron," she said and dropped a kiss on his cheek when she pulled away.

Ron took her face in between his hands and tipped her chin up. He hesitated for a second and then pressed his lips against hers. Kissing her was ambrosia. When he pulled away he had a smile upon his face and she too, he noticed, was smiling.

"I really missed you, Ron," Lavender whispered.

"Missed you too, Lav," Ron said. "Come on, let's find a compartment."

Lavender smiled and followed him down the same way his sister had gone. They found Ginny sitting with Luna and Neville in one of the compartments near the back.

"Hey, Ron," Neville said.

"Hello," Ron said, nodding to everyone before putting his trunk underneath his seat and helping Lavender put hers on the luggage rack above them.

"Where's Harry? Not missing from the train again like last time, is he?" Luna asked.

Ron sighed. "He left. He didn't say anything to anyone and just left yesterday morning."

"Is he doing that training he was doing last year?" Neville asked with a frown. "Could that be it?"

"I don't know," Ron said with a shrug as he sat down. "He just left. No one knows where he is, really."

"Do you think he'll be at the school?" Luna asked.

"Probably not," Ginny said, speaking for the first time. "I think he knows that going to Hogwarts isn't going to help him defeat Voldemort and he wants to do it as soon as possible so that he can finally have a quiet life."

Everyone nodded thoughtfully.


	10. Two Quests

**Author's Note: **I really like this chapter, because it's something that I just really looked forward to writing -- I'm talking of course about the second scene in this chapter. I just knew that I wanted it to come out this way and I had it somewhat planned for a while, so finally writing it was great. So I hope everyone likes it because I just really enjoyed writing. This chapter in general is one of my favorites. Anyway, thanks to those that always review, I really loving hearing your thoughts on this fic and enjoy the chapter.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, and Artemis

**_Chapter Ten  
_**

_Two Quests_

_September 2, 1998_

"Wake up, sleepyhead," crooned a voice in his ear, and Harry without any thought to where he was jumped out of bed, with wand in hand, and then he heard Artemis laugh.

"God, what are you going to do to me? Beat me up with that thin little stick!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sorry," he said and dropped his wand on the table that sat next to the bed he had sprung from. "You startled me."

"Yes, well," Artemis said, "I was supposed to wake you up for breakfast. Echo and I will probably go with you to your house. She said you saw it yesterday."

"From afar, yes," Harry said. He shifted his feet awkwardly before speaking again, "Um, do you think I could get changed?"

"Oh! Sorry."

"That's alright," Harry muttered as she turned and walked out the guest room.

The room was spacious and made up of green and light brown colors that gave the room warmth and welcome. The four poster bed that Harry had slept in had been very comfortable and allowed him to get some needed rest. Harry reached for his wand and waved it at the bed so that not only were the sheets cleaned but spread over the mattress perfectly, and then he did the same to the thin bedspread. The bag that had been shrunken in his pocket for the most part of his journey was back to its original size and sitting at the foot of his bed.

Upon entrance to the obviously muggle town, Harry had taken the shrinking spell off and instead made sure that it was feather light. Now, he searched for the few clothes that he had brought. He quickly dressed and made sure that his hair wasn't sticking out in all directions as it tended to do when he first woke up – giving him the impression sometimes that his hair was still quite unmanageable.

When Harry entered the kitchen he found only Echo and Artemis. Echo was seated at the kitchen table, holding a piece of toast while Artemis stood in front of the stove with a spatula in her hand.

"Tea, Harry?" Artemis asked when she saw him.

"Yes, thank you," Harry said.

"Come on, sit down," Echo said, motioning to the chair across from her.

Harry walked across the room and sat down next to her.

"Toast?"

Harry took the offered piece of bread.

"Almost done with those, Art?" Echo asked her sister.

Artemis didn't answer and instead moved the sausage on her skillet. "Nearly," she said a second later, while propping up her spatula on the pan and grabbing the kettle with an oven mitt. She grabbed a brown cup and poured the steaming liquid, before walking towards the table and placing it in front of him.

"Thanks," Harry said.

Artemis nodded, and returned to her sausages.

Once they had finished their breakfast, they were on their way, headed back to the rather large house that his mother and stepfather had once lived in.

In the light of day, the house and even the village as a whole looked different. It was such an impressive difference, that when Harry saw the house, he did not immediately notice the two figures in dark Death Eater robes that stood right in front of the house. It took the nudging of Echo to her sister, asking if she had ever seen the two of them around town before that drew them to Harry's attention, and then his eyes widened as the two Death Eaters realized that Harry had finally noticed them.

"Stay behind me," Harry said to the two girls. "In fact, at the first chance you get, try and run."

"But, Harry, what –" Echo begun.

"Not right now. I'll explain everything later," Harry said with a pointed look.

Echo nodded silently.

Harry pulled his wand out of his sleeve. He knew it would take a lot of explaining later, but if he could keep them alive then everything would be okay.

"Protecting muggles, now, are you, Potter?" One of the Death Eaters asked.

Harry thought he recognized the voice as one of the Death Eaters that had been up in the Astronomy tower when his father killed Dumbledore.

"Ah, sister, but don't you know. This one's a muggle lover, just like Dumbledore. He met his sticky end – it appears Mr. Potter here has not learned his lesson. I'm disappointed in Snape – wasn't a very good teacher was he?" The Death Eater laughed, walked forward, staggering a bit as if he were drunk, and pointed his wand at Harry.

His sister cackled. "What shall we do to him, brother?" she asked.

He waved his wand in a series of flicks. Harry waved his own wand in front of him creating a shield he had learnt from Lucius Malfoy. It would take most spells and rather than reflect them back to the one who had thrown it, eat it up, adding the magic needed for the spell onto itself, making it stronger. It had been a tricky spell to learn but Harry had finally gotten the hang of it. And now that he had a shield in front of him, he could attempt to somehow get rid of these two Death Eaters.

The spell that the male Death Eater had shot at Harry disappeared into the shield, and the moment it did, Harry was prepared, an onslaught of spells ready to leave his wand towards their targets. It seemed the female Death Eater was set for protecting them with her own shields and counter curses, though it was clear that she couldn't hold up anything for too long.

Behind him Harry heard Artemis and Echo trying to leave while at the same time trying hard to not be seen. When the two muggles had first seen the different colored streaks of lights that left the three wizards they had been scared witless, and then they had realized that it would be best for them to leave as quickly as they could.

Harry tried to throw a shield around them as well to help with their efforts, but doing so without them being noticed was not going to happen and Harry would never forgive himself if they were hurt because of him.

In the mere second it took for Harry to try and make sure that Echo and Artemis got out alright, the female Death Eater had shot a spell at him and it connected with his arm which erupted in painful boils. Harry knew what the counter spell was, but first he wanted to make sure to fall one of them and that he did not give them any time during which they could throw something else at him that was much worse than a few boils on his arm.

"_Oppugno," _Harry said silently under his breath, and sent, just like he had seen Hermione do once in a DA meeting, sent conjured bats towards the two Death Eaters.

"_Reducio!_" shouted the female Death Eater, pointing her wand at the bats.

Harry in the meanwhile, had already sent a few more spells their ways. One of them was from the Half-Blood-Prince book, Langlock, which would glue the target's tongue to the roof of their mouths. Harry ignored the fact, to himself, that Snape had invented that spell.

The male Death Eater was hit by the spell from the Half-Blood-Prince book. He tried fruitlessly to remove his tongue from the roof of his mouth, but nothing happened just as the leg-locker curse hit him and he fell to the ground.

The bats had almost all vanished when Harry turned to face the other Death Eater, however, seeing that her brother was on the ground, she frowned, threw herself to the ground on top of him, glared at Harry and then dissaparated. Harry knew he'd have to move quickly if there was anything to be found here. Voldemort knew where he was, and he was bound to send more of his Death Eaters after him.

Harry sighed. Lucius would have yelled at him for this. He had watched them get away and done nothing and now he was in more trouble.

He waved his wand, over his left arm and watched the boils disappear before he turned to look at Echo and Artemis. There would be a lot of explaining for him to do.

"Come on," he said, "I think it's safe to assume they won't come back tonight."

He made sure that everything that gave away the fact that a fight had occurred there mere moments before, and hoped that no one else had seen it happen. It didn't seem like anyone had, and Harry thought that at least in that he was successful.

The house was covered in wards, but they recognized him and dropped as he approached with Echo and Artemis behind him.

-

-

-

_August 16, 1998_

Draco groaned. He hated nature. Snape walked on ahead of him calmly as could be. Draco didn't come even close to comprehending how Snape could possibly walk along in his full black teaching robes while the sun seemed to want them to perspire to death, it was so hot. Draco almost tripped over a misplaced branch a second later and fell right into Snape. He quickly pulled himself back and steadied himself on his feet on the ground. Snape turned to look at him.

"Draco, is it imperative that every time we come to this little spot in the woods you run into me?"

"No," Draco said, drawing out the word before continuing. "If I had a cooling charm on myself, however, I could probably make a better effort to not trip over misplaced branches."

Snape all but growled. He turned away from Draco and continued walking. "Be sure to close your mind," he said moments later as they approached the clearing where Draco had passed out the last time.

Draco merely grunted and pushed his hair back from his forehead. He hated being sweaty.

"Why can't I use a cooling charm or something that could help in this blistering heat?" Draco asked. "And why, oh, why, are we here on the hottest day of the summer!"

Snape didn't bother to answer, except to give Draco a silent weary look.

Draco saw them, then, floating about. They were beautiful little lights, almost seeming to blink at him. They sung for him to come closer and to allow them into his mind. They were seductive, these souls, and he wanted badly to allow them to go into his mind. He wanted to succumb to their wishes and let them feast on the darkness that remained in him.

"Draco," Snape called.

Draco blinked, and immediately shook himself out of the trance like state that the souls had attempted to get him into.

"Not this time, guys," he muttered and followed Snape's voice.

Snape was standing directly in front of a tree, looking at it as if it was the most important thing in the world, and running his hands over its rough bark.

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"Quiet," Snape said. "I need to concentrate."

Draco closed his mouth at once and waited, watching as patiently as he could, which meant he was shifting his feet on the ground and trying hard not to continue moaning about the sun that was hitting the back of his neck.

"Aha!"

Draco moved closer to the tree. "What?" he asked.

"I think I've got it," Snape said.

"Got what?"

Snape didn't answer. Draco rolled his eyes – he was always like this.

The black clad wizard walked around the tree, all the while tapping it with his wand, until finally he traced something with his hand on its bark and he sighed.

"Well, what could you possibly want?" Snape asked.

"You're talking to a tree, Professor."

Snape didn't respond but a few seconds later muttered something to himself again.

"What?" Draco asked.

"I think it wants blood," Snape said finally, "but I could be wrong."

"Blood?" Draco asked. "Like a sacrifice?"

"Hmm, yes," Snape said, nodding.

"Aunt Bella taught me all about them. She said, well, I don't know why she had to teach me about them, but she said that if the spell required a sacrifice and it did not specify what kind, it was most likely one asking for the sacrifice of a living thing."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I did know that," he said. "I'm surprised you do, but, do you really think that is what we need?"

Draco stepped closer. He knew all about sacrificial spells and knew just how to read them. Now that he knew that was what Snape had been doing, he closed his eyes tightly and touched the tree.

"Dirty blood and the sacrifice of a living thing; preferably the sacrifice of the half-blood or muggle-born used for the blood."

Snape nodded and rummaged through one of his robe pockets. Draco had for a long time now, suspected that Snape's pockets were enchanted to hold anything and everything without damage.

Snape brought out a knife.

"What are you going to do with that?" Draco asked.

Snape didn't answer, instead he handed it to Draco. "I guess we'll be needing an animal of some sort."

Draco groaned. As much as he knew about sacrificial spells, he had never wanted to be part of breaking one, and just hearing Snape talking about it made him want to turn around and go back the way he had come, as much as he hated the heat. However, Draco followed Snape as he walked away from the tree. The knife in his hand was one used for potions ingredients, and it was beautifully made. The handle was made of a black glassy rock like material that Draco thought was called obsidian, and carved in a beautiful scripture was the name Severus Snape on one side of it. As, Draco followed, he wondered why this was so important, and why Snape hadn't simply conjured up an animal.

-

-

-

The walls were slimy. They were wet, and this was the first thing Draco noticed, after falling into this underground tunnel of Snape's after they had finally given up – in a gruesome act that Draco didn't want to think about – the sacrificial rabbit and some of Snape's blood. He had been moving away from the tree and the repugnant site when he felt the ground underneath him give away, and he was falling with a scream into this dark tunnel. Draco shuddered. This was worse than being above ground with the sun burning his skin to a crisp. It was cool down here, and dirty. He could barely make out anything in front of him and he didn't know if he really wanted to know what could be ahead or for that matter behind him.

Draco reached for his wand. He needed light and everything that Snape had said earlier concerning magic didn't matter anymore – he would not stand in some dirty old tunnel in the dark. He ignored the fact that there was faint light from the hole he had fallen through and that it could offer him some light until Snape decided to rescue him.

"Draco?" Snape's voice was faint and come from somewhere above him.

"_Lumos_," Draco whispered.

Thick roots of trees embraced and stuck out of the dirt walls. Water ran down some of them, making the ground moist and at times leaving puddles. Draco couldn't help but shudder yet again at this.

"Draco?" Snape asked again. His voice was closer this time.

Draco turned and lit the walls around him in a glow. He needed to see everything just in case something was hiding along the walls, just waiting to sneak up to him and possibly kill him – magical creatures were never to be trusted. As he turned, full circle, Draco heard a noise somewhere to his left and quickly turned in that direction, his wand up and ready.

"Shut that light off!" Snape snapped. "Do you never listen? We cannot use magic."

When Draco did not readily put out his wand, Snape did it for him by snatching the wand out of his hand and muttering a disgruntled, "_Nox_."

Draco glared at him as they were left in complete darkness, wishing that Snape could see the death glare sent his way or at the very least feel it burning a hole into the side of his face quite like the sun had been doing to Draco when they had been walking through what Snape called the wonders of nature – there had been nothing wonderful about it.

Snape in the meanwhile seemed to be shuffling through his pockets.

"Aha," he said when he found what he had been looking for which, from what Draco could make out, happened to be a branch.

Snape reached once more into one of his pockets and this time pulled out a number of potion phials before finally finding the right one. All while holding the branch, Snape uncorked the potion phial. He dropped the cork in his pocket and dipped the branch in the potion.

"Here, hold this," he said, passing Draco the branch.

Draco didn't dare to touch the potion at the tip of the branch but he wondered exactly what Snape was hoping to get from it.

Snape put the potion phial, closed again, back in his pocket, and brought out an object that Draco had only ever seen once – a match box.

"Bring it closer, I need to light the potion covered tip."

Draco shuffled forwards and watched – seeing merely shadows of Snape's movements – as his mentor lit the match and pressed its head to the tip of the branch. Fire flared on the branch for only a moment and then it began to glow brighter and become a small well rounded tip. It was too bright and Draco felt as if he was blinded the moment he looked away. Around him floated the shadows of lights in all different colors before they went away a few minutes later. This was better than his Lumos but still, even with light Draco wanted to leave the tunnel at the first chance he got.

"Interesting place," Snape said. "I expected something a little more."

"Was this where you wanted to go?" Draco asked. He had thought it had been just a mistake, that they were getting out, now that they had a light, but no, this was where Snape had wanted to go. "And what, pray tell, are we doing down here?"

"We're here to retrieve something important," Snape said. "The use of magic from now on will be rather perilous. I did not want to risk it before either, but it was necessary at times, I suppose."

Lighting up the walls and the floor around them with his bright branch, Snape looked both ways – it gave Draco the impression of someone wanting to cross a busy intersection – before muttering once and turning into the right cave that came off of the wall in front of them.

A stalactite hung from the ceiling not far off, and Draco noticed then that there were many of them hanging around as well as their counterparts – stalagmites. He had never wanted to experience this side of nature and now that he was, Draco wished that he hadn't.

They weaved past them and continued on. It was lucky, Draco thought, as they did so and he tried to not even let his robes brush against them or any of the more rock solid walls that they were coming upon, that the cave was not too narrow or short for them to pass by. However, as soon as Draco had thought that, they came upon a passage so narrow, that suggested mockingly at them that they would have to walk sideways and at times even – to Draco's chagrin – have to brush up against the slimy, moist, dirty walls.

It was torture and Draco couldn't wait for it to end, and then he saw the stairs. He was almost sure they were made up of some sort of ceramic tile or maybe even marble, but when they were finally upon him he realized that it was some sort of glassy multicolored rock.

They climbed up the stairs and Draco wondered what could possibly be found above them. He followed Snape, hoping they could get this over with quickly and he could go back to Malfoy Manor where he would get one of the house elves to draw him one of those baths he loved and he could soak in it for hours without anyone to bother him. He would have to get Snape to brew him something for the probable sunburn that he no doubt had as well as for any possible germs that he might carry home with him from this stupid cave.

They were in a small room. It had actual walls and a floor made up of the same rock the stairs had been made from. There were even lit candles floating around the room, illuminating everything nicely. It was obvious to Draco, now, that they were no longer underground, but that this room had no way out this way, just through the same way they had come.

There were wooden chests against each wall, each of them mocking Draco and Snape with their secret contents.

"Tricky," Snape said.

"What is?" Draco asked.

"Well, from what the walls are screaming, only one of these chests contains what I want. I have to guess which one on my first try and then of course there are the other obstacles within each chest to worry about. Dumbledore did not tell me this would be this hard."

Draco frowned. "So, how are you going to chose?"

"Be quiet, Draco," Snape said. "I need to concentrate on this."

Draco sighed and decided to sit down against one of the walls and just watch Snape figure this out.


	11. Moments of Quick Decisions

**Author's Note: **I didn't know when I first started writing this chapter that the plot would take such a turn. I guess I better go into it in the author's note I'll include at the bottom of the chapter...but anyway, thanks for the reviews and I hope you all like this chapter.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Eleven  
_**

_Moments of Quick Decisions _

_September 5, 1998_

Echo was still a little surprised and a tad fearful. When Harry had explained to them exactly what he had done, and how, and why, she had been in shock, unable to utter even a single word to protest that it was unnatural. Artemis, however, had had her wits about her and exclaimed within moments about how great it was that Harry could do something like that. She wasn't at all worried that someone had tried to kill them – or rather kill Harry – or thought about the fact that Harry Potter could also kill them if he wanted to.

"Table four needs clean up, Echo," her aunt said, while breezing past her to the register where a man in the most unusually colored bowler hat, stood waiting.

Echo sighed, and walked to table four, incidentally the one where she and Harry had sat to eat on four days previous. Having honed the ability to carry a number of things after years of being a waitress, Echo picked up the three empty tea cups, and the medium sized plates. She walked back to behind the counter and, pushing the swinging door open with her foot, made her way into the kitchen where her older brother, Ares, and her uncle were seated around the island, eating while the cook and two of the cook's helpers walked around them making breakfast for the usual crowd out in the front of the restaurant. Echo put everything down gently in the sink and made to walk back to finish cleaning the table when her brother waved her over.

"So, how's Potter?" Ares asked.

"Haven't seen him in the past forty eight hours," Echo said. "Artemis might know more. I think she's with him now."

Ares had not properly met Harry and Echo knew he was as interested in him as Artemis was. If only he knew that Harry was really a wizard and that he was in the middle of some sort of wizarding war.

"Ah, Mr. Potter is a very well behaved young man," her uncle said. "I rather like him. He seemed a little strange – but then all of the Potters were like that. I wonder if he has found what he is searching."

"Searching?" Echo asked.

She had seen her uncle and Harry talking just a day or so ago but hadn't joined them and now she wondered just what Harry could have done to impress her uncle so much.

"Asked some odd questions, he did. Had I, he asked, ever seen any odd folk enter the house or come near it? Well, of course not, but then again, one never knows with that house."

"Echo! Table four!"

Her uncle looked like he had a lot more to say, but nodded for her to go and continue with her job. Echo frowned but walked back out to the restaurant and grabbing a small cloth walked back to the table and made sure all the crumbs had been bushed from the table and that it was clean as could be.

Echo returned to her spot behind the counter.

"What are those two doing back there?" Her aunt asked.

"Eating," Echo said, "when aren't they?"

Her aunt laughed. "Ah, Echo, things will forever be the same around here."

Echo doubted it. With Harry Potter staying within their small little community, they were bound to have more trouble than just two wizards attacking them. Harry had voiced his concerns over that, when explaining things to her and Artemis. He had hoped only that he would be enough to keep Godric's Hollow intact when and if they came after him.

"Well," her aunt continued, "there is that Potter boy, come back from who knows where."

"There is that," Echo whispered. "There is always that."

-

-

-

"So, basically you're their savior," Artemis said.

Harry nodded. "I never wanted to be anything other than normal, but I guess this is my fate."

"Then what are you doing here if there's a war going on out there? Shouldn't you be fighting it?"

Harry didn't answer. He had been very surprised when Artemis had shown a big interest in how the wizarding world worked. She had been asking him questions since. At first she had only listened and been alright with it, dragged off to home by Echo, leaving Harry alone with the house his parents had lived in. The next day he had seen neither of them and then Artemis had shown up the day after that, and after staying the night was helping him sort through everything in a small office he had found full of things that had obviously been James' and Lily's. That everything was still so intact bothered Harry greatly.

"It's different than a war in the muggle world," Harry said, finally. "I guess battle is inevitable, but it is my move now and rather than to fight, I choose to find a way to make the battle shorter – to make his life shorter."

Artemis frowned and sunk into the chair nearest to where he crouched, trying to pry a small box open.

"What are you looking for?"

"Anything. Everything." Harry laughed.

Artemis sighed. "You don't look like your father," she said a few minutes later. "My mom said so the other day."

"When I was younger," Harry said with a grunt, "I looked very much like James Potter. I used magic to make sure my eyes were not going to be burdened by the need for glasses, and my hair I assume tidied itself up more like my mother's was, although it also darkened considerably to match my father's hair."

Artemis nodded and they fell into silence and watched while Harry managed to open the box. He carried it to the desk she sat behind and took the seat across from her and pulled the box towards him.

Harry enjoyed Artemis' company. She was quiet when she had to be, and noisy when she wanted. She was very opinionated and although Harry had not seen it upon his first meeting of her, she was fascinated by the world around her. It was too bad, she had lamented just the day before, that she would never really get to see it. Her family had always and would always live in Godric's Hollow for as long as it would have them and as far as she was concerned that heavily applied to her. She would never leave this small village and explore the world like she wanted to. Artemis was also, Harry was glad he had found out, very open-minded.

"I always wanted to know. And I meant to ask before," Artemis said, suddenly. "Why are you here alone? I mean, you mentioned friend, and I guess you must have some sort of guardian."

Harry sighed and stopped flipping through the yellowed pieces of parchment in the box. The mention of a guarding brought Snape floating to the front most part of his thoughts, as had most of the things he had found in Godric's Hollow – particularly when he remembered that he wasn't exactly entitled to this house seeing as he was only a Potter in name.

"They're dead," Harry said finally. "My aunt and uncle, that is. They died on my birthday last year – a gift from Voldemort."

"Oh," Artemis said. "That's terrible. What about magic? Why didn't they fight back?"

"They weren't wizards. My mom's sister and her husband were both muggles. She came from a muggle family – it happens sometimes, a lot recently, my best friend is muggle born, she –" She was unconscious in some sort of coma state at Hogwarts and Harry couldn't help but wonder if they had found something to help her yet.

"And you weren't there to help them?" Artemis pressed on.

"I had left for the summer because they were afraid the wards, the things protecting me were falling so I had to go somewhere safer and we never thought that they would be attacked."

Harry stood up and walked to one of the clean, mostly empty bookshelf. Thinking about the Dursleys wasn't hard. Not like thinking about Cedric, Sirius, or Dumbledore, or even Hermione was. It was too easy to think about the muggle relatives that had made his childhood terrible. Thinking about Hermione on the other hand was terrible. He tried to shake the thought. He had left only a week ago, and already he couldn't help but want to know what else was going on with the rest of them. Were Faye and Lucius okay with all the Weasleys now invading the place they had made into a home? How were Imy, Ron, and Ginny doing at a Hogwarts where Order members hid in plain sight planning and plotting for the war, and one in which Albus Dumbledore no longer existed?

"But your friends, surely someone must have wanted to come with you in light of everything – that attack a few days ago. It could happen again soon and you might not be so lucky."

And then there were thoughts of the Ministry. Voldemort still quite obviously controlled it, and although the Order had managed to keep a few of their spies working within, the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself had so much control of the Ministry that new laws and edicts were probably being passed at that very moment that made it easier for Voldemort to fight the Order. Harry was surprised that nothing against Muggle-borns had been issued yet, but as Harry had begun to suspect, Voldemort was waiting for something from him – maybe the show of a weakness that he could attack. Harry would not let him get that. After all, Voldemort knew he was in Godric's Hollow and beyond the two Death Eaters he had encountered – probably waiting there to tell Voldemort when Harry entered this house – he had not seen it fit to attack him just yet or for that matter have someone bring him to him.

"I didn't tell anyone where I was going," Harry admitted, shaking himself from his thoughts. "I've hidden a lot from my friends in the last year and one of them is just fighting for her life, waiting for a spell or potion to be found that can help her, and my other friend just shouldn't be involved in this, he's so hot headed. I don't want to get them hurt."

Artemis slowly got up from her chair, stretching herself like a cat. Harry mused that if she could have been an animagus he could have seen her as a cat, but as it was, muggles couldn't use such complicated transfiguration magic, or any at all for that matter.

"I don't want to lose them," Harry said. "They are the only thing I have left and frankly if I lost them I think that would be the end of me. To this war, I have given up the love of a mother and a father – I guess – and I've lost my Godfather and just about everyone that I came close to loving and not all of them to death. Some have betrayed me."

"Oh, Harry," Artemis said with emotion in her voice.

It wasn't pity, Harry noted at once, but something more like sympathy.

"You've lived a hard life," she said softly. "And you have more coming too from what you've said."

"It's not something I can run from." Harry said. "I've accepted my fate."

"It doesn't help that you're so bloody noble and sacrificial. You are ready to give up your life for this war, aren't you?"

It took Harry not even a split second to realize that he didn't know. He had never thought about it. Would he give up his life if the war needed him to? Perhaps, but it all depended on what stage they were in. But would he let innocents die for him? No.

"I think – maybe," he said to Artemis.

She walked around the desk, towards him. "You would," she said. "It's not in your nature to allow someone to die if you could stop it. In fact, I don't think you're anywhere near ready to kill someone in cold blood. No one should be, but in this war, won't you have to be?"

Harry didn't realize he was shaking. No, he wasn't ready to kill. He had vowed to kill his father, yes, but that had been a decision made with a flurry of emotions vying to get out and scream at the world for the tragedy that had occurred. He hadn't pictured himself doing it. Almost killing Draco had shaken him enough, and even then he had been in too much shock to really comprehend what he had done. He wasn't ready to take a life. He could use the dark arts now, but even that he used with too much caution and he never really caused anyone true damage.

As if she was reading his mind, Artemis spoke again, "those spells you used on those, what were they, Death Drinkers? Anyway, they were just enough to incapacitate them, but they weren't truly hurtful, weren't they?"

Harry wanted to argue that Langlock was rather painful, but he knew it would be futile. It was a spell that had been created by Snape, and not one of Snape's nastier spells, like the one that had been put on Hermione. There was a counter curse for Langlock, anyway, it had been a few pages away from the curse itself, and…

It hit Harry like a bunch of bricks. The spell Hermione had on her. It had been created by Snape. Lucius had not said when, but Harry was almost positive that Snape would not have just made a curse without something to counter it – he was just that meticulous about the spells and potions he created – and it had to be in one of the books he kept around in his rooms full of spells that he had created.

Harry knew without a doubt that Snape had never gotten a chance to go back to his rooms, and he had known that he wouldn't. He also had not keyed anyone to his rooms but Harry and Dumbledore and that meant that no one had been able to get within them to get them cleared for the new teacher who, Harry knew, would have rooms somewhere in the third floor even though that was nowhere near his classroom.

Harry had some idea, that Snape could have kept those things at his house, but Harry doubted he would have just left things like that in his office at home. In fact, Snape had probably forgotten all about this spell – how long ago had he made it? Lucius probably knew, and Faye had said she was almost positive on what the curse was.

He knew how he could help Hermione! He'd have to act on it, and fast. Would he be glad to see her again, looking less pale and awake. He wouldn't feel as if he were talking to a doll anymore if what he knew about Snape was true. Oh, he could jump for joy.

"What? What is it? Harry!"

Harry had not realized that he had been completely ignoring Artemis and once he did he broke out into a grin.

"I know how to save her!" he said and took her into his arms, dancing around the room.

Artemis laughed, all the while trying not to step on Harry's feet or trip to the ground.

"Oh, this is great!" Harry said. He could have shouted for joy. He knew how to save Hermione, and although it would take him maybe a week to find the counter curse, it was the fact that he knew where it was – where he hoped it was – that had set him off.

Suddenly, Artemis looked completely different to him. It was as if he had been blind when first looking at her, now she was beauty incarnate. She glowed. Her hair, blond and flowing down her back, her eyes looking greener than ever in that light, and her porcelain skin, flawless. Harry didn't know how it happened, but one moment he was jumping for joy, dragging Artemis around the floor, rather ungracefully, and then he had stopped, holding both of her hands against their sides. He had stepped closer and noticed that she stood about half a foot shorter than him. He had dipped his head closer and she had tipped her chin up.

The last few days they had spent together had allowed Harry to see Artemis as a kindred soul to him, and she had been like a part that missing from him – he had thought they had been meant to be friends – but this, standing in such a close proximity to her, with their breaths mingling in the air, whispering in the air that they belonged even closer together, Harry couldn't help but feel as if he had nothing to worry about, because everything would be okay. This had happened so fast, but that was alright. And as much as Harry had not wanted this to happen, he had to let it. He had no choice on that matter.

Her lips were soft. That was the one and only thing that Harry got to think, before he heard the laughter of a woman, and the call of his name in her nettlesome baby voice.

The spell was broken and Harry's eyes widened. They were here, and this time he had no doubt that they had come for him – they weren't fumbling fledging Death Eaters, meant to keep watch. These were the big boys, ready to kill any and every muggle in this town if they had to – in fact they would do it for kicks – to get to him.

"_Colloportus!" _Harry yelled, his wand in hand, and then threw a bit more of his magic into the spell, as well as a ward for good measure. That might stop them for the moment, but it would only give them a few minutes.

He still held one of Artemis' hands, and she was shaking.

"Harry," she whispered, "What's going to happen now?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know," he said in an almost defeated tone. "I have to get you out of here. I can't let them see you. If they do –" he trailed off.

Artemis nodded, eyes wide, but understanding, with just a hint of fear in her eyes. But there was also something else, bravely, Harry thought. She would have been in Gryffindor had she been a witch.

"Did I bring my bag in here with me?" He asked, surveying the room.

"Yes, over there," Artemis said.

Harry let go of her hand rather reluctantly and ran to the bag, he opened it quickly and began to ruffle through it. He took out his shrunken broom and then his invisibility cloak. He could hear them looking through the rooms, but they hadn't come upon this one yet. Harry was glad for the door being partially hidden into the main bedroom, but eventually they would find it.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Harry asked.

"What?" Artemis gasped. "What kind of question is that? Are we jumping out the window? That's going to kill us, that is!"

"We're not jumping out the window," Harry said with a chuckle. "We are, however, going to fly out the window."

"Fly? But –"

Harry had taken the shrinking spell off his Firebolt and was holding it out in front of him.

"Open the window," he instructed.

Artemis was still a little shaken, and Harry couldn't blame her, but she did as she was told.

"Alright, well, the window isn't tall enough for us to get on the broom in here, but we can certainly climb out."

Artemis nodded, although she did it somewhat fearfully. The sound of an annoyed yell somewhere on the other side of the door, however, helped her make up her mind, and it seemed that climbing out of a window onto a broom was a far better choice than facing those angry men and women out to kill Harry and probably her as well, only for being with him.

"Let's hope none of them were left outside to secure the perimeter, but as it is, I do want to put a little spell on you so we won't be noticed."

Artemis bit her lip, but moved away from the window towards Harry. Harry, noticing that despite that she was acting brave and knew this was complete necessary, Artemis was practically shaking in fear, Harry wrapped his arms around her. He knew they didn't have much time, but this – to him – was just as important as leaving if maybe a smaller priority.

"We're going to be alright. I won't let them hurt you. I won't."

Artemis nodded, against him, and Harry was surprised to feel a light moistness to his shirt. She was crying. For a moment he mused that every girl he had ever kissed somehow seemed to end up in tears, but he shook the thought out of his head and cupped her face. Even while in tears she was beautiful and Harry wanted to press his lips against hers again, but he restrained himself.

"We'll be okay, Art," he whispered. "I promise."

His wand was still in his hand, and it was easy to him to tap her on the head, using a nonverbal disillusionment charm. He placed one on himself and second later, shuddering at the feeling.

"We have to leave now."

She nodded, but seemed to need to have some sort of physical contact with him. Harry wrapped his left arm around her shoulders protectively and, taking one more look around the room he placed his disillusioned broom outside the window.

"Alright, I'll go first," he told her.

She nodded against him.

"Then you can climb out and I won't let you fall."

Artemis nodded again.

Harry had made sure that his broom knew to catch him once he fell from the window. There was no other way to do this. Getting Artemis out on it would be much easier. Harry lowered himself out of the window, and fell right into his broom. The window was too small for this maneuver to work without some pain, and Harry felt it when he hit the broom, and wished had had thought of putting a cushioning charm on it before hand.

"Ready?" He called over to Artemis in a stage whisper.

"That looked like it hurt," she whispered back, but was already sticking her leg out the window, followed by her head. Harry had never imagined her to be that flexible, and mused that if he had done it the same way she was doing it, things would have been easier.

"Grab on to me," Harry said, hovering as close as he could.

Artemis leaned into him, her arms coming around his shoulders. She was holding on tightly as she pulled her other leg free, and then she fell into him. Harry quickly wrapped one arm around her and held onto the broom with his other hand.

"God, that was terrible, and my leg stings," Artemis mumbled into his collar.

She was sitting sideways on the broom, her arms around his waist, and her face hidden in his neck, and Harry could see a small gash on her ankle where the jeans of her left leg had ridden up. It didn't seem to be causing her any discomfort, as Harry flew the broom away from the Potter house. They would no doubt destroy it when they didn't find him and then they would go into the town, if they hadn't sent anyone there already – and to think mere minutes before he had been rejoicing in having found a way to find a cure for Hermione.

Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't know how many of them were there, and he was only one person, and there were the villagers to protect. He couldn't just leave them to face death. He would never forgive himself for that, but he also couldn't face them alone. He knew it was just a matter of his pride. But he prided himself in being able to make adult decisions, and if he really thought that, then he would use the object that was screaming in his bag, to be used.

Lucius had taught him how to do it. It was a mixture of a Protean Charm, and Portus. It would send Lucius, or for that matter anyone of his choice a message and a portkey to which they would have to simply utter his name and be brought to his location. It was the perfect, handy little spell that worked faster than a patronus ever would, and he knew he needed help, even if this wound up with him being taken back to Grimmauld Place. It didn't matter anymore. He would have gone back to Hogwarts eventually to search for that cure for Hermione.

Harry flew them to Artemis' house and landed behind the house. They walked quickly inside, and Harry searched through his bag. He found the ring Lucius had given him with the Malfoy crest on it and tapped it once with a mutter of the spell and his message, "I'm at Godric's Hollow, use the portkey to come to me, his lot are here. I don't know how many, but I think I'll need some help. Bring as many as you can, quickly. Harry. It's a stag."

He tapped it again and it disappeared.

Artemis was staring at him, looking fearful. "Do you think they'll attack the village?" she asked in a small fearful voice.

"I think so," Harry said. "They're murderers. Their souls are so twisted and evil. They enjoy it. They live for torturing and killing and maiming innocent people – the more innocent the better in their opinion."

Artemis shuddered. "Oh, Harry," she said. "What if something happens to Echo, or to my mum?"

Harry sighed. "This is all my fault. I should never have come here. Now I've endangered you and your family and your friends probably. I'm so sorry."

"No!" Artemis cried. "No, don't blame yourself. It's not you. You've been wonderful and they shouldn't be after you like this, and – it's not your fault."

Harry nodded somewhat reluctantly. He hated that he had brought her into this. And her family. They had been wonderful to him and he repaid them with this.

Artemis had crossed the small amount of space between them and folded herself into his arms. Harry wondered for a moment, why she fit so well there, and wrapped his own arms around her. A moment later, she pulled away, although she remained by his side. They were standing like this when Faye, Molly, Arthur, Fred, George, Bill, Fleur, and Sawyer appeared in front of them, all of them touching one piece of the ring he had sent them. Fred and George, having never mastered the act of using a Porkey without falling, were sprawled on the ground. They all looked worried and had their wands out, ready to attack.

Harry smiled faintly. Now there was just a matter of planning how to go about making sure the village would be undisturbed.

**Author's Note:**

Alright, so I know that the Harry/Artemis stuff in this chapter was random...it was sort of completely unexpected. That was the point. It was a spur of the moment decision for Harry when he felt attracted to her, especially when she was so I guess understanding and like him...but you'll see later why this is I guess semi-important to the plot.... I just wanted to point out that I know how it looks but that I as the author of this fic know what I'm doing with a scene like that.

Anyhow, please review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Next one will most likely be up Friday.

-Erika


	12. Draco's Gift

**Author's Note: **Another chapter with Snape and Draco. Enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twelve  
_**

_Draco's Gift  
_

_August 16, 1998_

It had been an hour in his estimation since Snape began to examine each and every chest without touching them. It seemed that Snape had decided this was the way to go about figuring out which one he needed to open. Draco, leaning against the wall, thought that the chest sitting across from him was the one. There was something about the way it sat there, screaming that it was better than this room – better than the other chests. Draco knew magic. He had been around it since before he had been born, and that chest, it sung to him. Dark magic, Draco thought, but strong magic nevertheless.

The other chests had a different kind of magic on them. It wasn't as dark but this was dangerous dark magic, the kind that was ready to hurt even the person that had placed that magic within without a care. It was wild and cruel. It was the kind of magic that the souls thrived upon and the kind of magic that disgusted Draco, now that he could feel it near him, but it was also wonderful and not all dark magic had to be this evil – some kinds of it were beautiful.

"It's that one," Draco said, pointing at the chest across from him.

Snape stopped examining the chest nearest to Draco and looked up at him with an eyebrow raised in question.

"The magic around it is darker than in any of the others but it isn't as destructive or dangerous," Draco explained.

Snape frowned in thought. He had spent the most time looking over that one, and Draco knew he had not entirely ruled out the possibilities of it being one, like he had with two others, leaving that one, and the one closest to Draco to chose from.

"And you can tell, just from looking at it?"

"The magic sings to me," Draco said. "Most purebloods can sense magic like this – I think that ability was amplified with me. From an early age I was taught to recognize magic, dark and light alike."

"Does it feel like a soul?" Snape asked suddenly, straightening up from the other box.

Draco closed his eyes, concentrating hard on what he was doing. He found that it did feel slightly like a soul. Like a broken soul – a dark broken soul, screaming to be let out to rejoin its other broken parts. This was unnatural and Draco felt himself shudder – it was the work of Voldemort.

"Yes," Draco whispered.

It was clear that Snape did not know what to expect once he opened the chest. Even if it did contain what he was looking for, they weren't fully sure that something else wouldn't be inside, waiting to attack them – another precaution of Voldemort's to stop them from finding this object Snape wanted to get.

"Magic is still not to be your first reaction," Snape told Draco, his eyes locking on him. "Witches and wizards depend on their magic far too much."

Draco gave a sharp nod.

Snape crouched in front of it and opened the chest slowly. Draco watched it with trepidation. Snape stepped back as soon as the lid was against the wall and the contents of the chest were ready to be taken out.

Inside the chest was a cup. An ordinary goblet like cup that had absolutely nothing special about it, but from the way that Snape was looking at it, it was quite obvious that the cup was rather important and exactly what he had been looking for. There didn't seem to be any sort of traps set up around it, but Draco thought that there had to be something – it couldn't be that simple. Snape seemed to be thinking the same thing for he did not reach for it.

"Can you feel anything around it?" Snape asked.

He couldn't. Draco shook his head. "There still might be something." Draco was positive there had to be something more on it – this was Voldemort they were talking about. He couldn't have been that confident that no one would get this far to getting the cup.

"Can we use magic now?" Draco thought that with a few well placed spells, he would be able to find any protection that had been put on the cup.

Snape shook his head. "That might set it off," Snape said. "Unless…"

"What?" Draco asked.

"Magic doesn't exactly register in a place when it is wandless," Snape said.

"But the ministry of magic and under age magic," Draco began.

"That's different," Snape said, thoughtfully.

Draco watched him. It took Snape a few minutes of thinking to finally make up his mind, and then he waved his hand over the cup. Draco watched in fascination as it was surrounded by blue light. It shimmered for a moment, and then it was back to normal a moment later.

"I think," Snape said, "it doesn't matter what magical means we use to determine what will come if we remove the cup, nothing will give us an answer except to use that incumbent Gryffindor foolishness we so despise."

Draco could have laughed, had this not been such a very serious moment. He followed Snape's hand with his eyes as he reached for the cup and waited for something terrible to happen, but nothing did. Snape stood up the cup in his hands and still nothing happened.

Snape began to laugh. It was strange to hear such a sound coming out of the stringent Potions Master, but something had to have amused him greatly if he was laughing.

"We have forgotten, Draco, that the Dark Lord thinks very highly of himself and would never have expected anyone but himself to chose the right chest, much less find their way into this chamber of his. I think, perhaps, he will always underestimate his opponent – or at least, he did once."

Draco didn't find this as amusing as something to laugh about, but he nodded, thinking that he wanted to leave as quickly as possible. He expressed this sentiment to Snape who nodded and set about making a copy of the cup and leaving it within the chest, and then they turned and went back down to the cave with the stalagmites and stalactites and the narrow passage, and the darkness lit only by the bright branch that Snape still had in his hand, though Draco had no idea where he had stashed it while they were in the chamber.

-

-

-

_August 20, 1998_

The spare piece of parchment was devoid of any written message – it was mocking him. He had looked at it at least once a day since she had given it to him and back then it had been full of her thoughts – now, there was nothing.

"Draco!"

Draco groaned. He folded his parchment and slipped it into his robes' pocket, just as his mother entered his room without bothering to even knock.

"What is it, Mother?" Draco asked, not bothering to even look at her as he made sure that his parchment was hidden from her.

"Professor Snape is here, Draco, he seems to need your assistance with something."

Draco stood up from his bed and walked out of his room. He heard his mother coming behind him and begin to prattle on about some sort of nonsense that Draco wanted nothing to do with.

Snape was waving away a house elf, when Draco entered the drawing room a few minutes later. He seemed to have not made himself at home whatsoever, and looked quite odd standing in the middle of the rather clean and pristine room. Behind him, Draco heard his mother going on about Hogwarts, of all things, and Draco remembered faintly that he would not be returning to Hogwarts this year as much as his mother wanted him to.

"Hello, Professor," Draco said.

Snape nodded at him in greeting, without a word, and then after a minute or so of an awkward silence, Snape addressed his mother. "I'm afraid, Mrs. Malfoy, I must steal your son for the remainder of the day."

"Quite alright," Narcissa Malfoy said, despite the fact that she was frowning and this seemed to not be alright at all in her opinion.

A few minutes later, found him and Snape walking out of Malfor Manor, after Snape had promised that he would not be taking Draco out into the middle of some forest that would not do at all for his complexion. Draco mused that maybe he had complained maybe a tad too much in front of his mother for her to be so worried about whatever excursion Snape had planned for them on this day.

"Where are we going today? Not another cave, I hope."

"No. Not a cave. Perhaps a swamp," Snape said.

"Very funny," Draco said. "What did you do with the cup, anyway?"

"I would tell you if you didn't pester me so," Snape said without once looking at Draco, but towards the gates to the Manor.

It wasn't that hot today, not like it had been four days ago, when he had last seen Snape, but Draco hoped that whatever Snape wanted with him did not involve another search for some lost artifact. Beyond knowing it was somehow important to Voldemort and Snape both, Draco had no idea what the cup was for.

"Apparate to my home," Snape instructed, once they had walked past the gates.

Draco nodded, closed his eyes, and did as he was told.

About five minutes later, Draco was seated across from Snape in Snape's office. The cup, a relic of Helga Hufflepuff, Draco realized now, sat between them on the desk. It was obvious to Draco that this was not the reason they were there and that Snape had probably not meant to leave the cup out like that for Draco to see. He kept it there, however.

"What is it?" Draco asked, regardless. He was a curious creature as he knew most humans had to be. "There's doubtlessly something more to it than just the fact that it once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff."

"I don't think," said Snape after a moment's pause, in which he took the cup gently into his hands and stared at it, "it would be prudent for me to share this information when it is the most important piece of intelligence the Order has."

Draco opened his mouth to protest that he should be allowed to know something about the object Snape had made him help acquire, but one look at Snape and he knew that it would be of no use to nuisance Snape with this when Snape had more things to worry about.

"What am I doing here, then?" Draco asked instead.

"From what I saw four days ago, your affinity for magic has grown enormously – a great help to our cause and this task in particular. I wish to know just how much this ability of yours can do – how much it will be able to help us in this war."

Draco frowned. That was what this was about. "It's no great ability," he told Snape. "All purebloods can –"

"You told me it was amplified," Snape said. "There is a potion –"

Draco cut him off. "What about this potion? Haven't I had enough potions?"

"Not nearly enough," Snape said.

It took Draco a moment to realize that Snape was saying that in jest.

"Will this one also taste awful and knock me out for three days?"

Snape gave him an annoyed glance. "It will take just a few minutes – at the most ten."

"Exactly how does it work, then?"

"You will take the potion, and through the use of a spell it will give me a reading on a scale for the potency of your ability," Snape said. "It is generally used by the ministry to measure the magical power of Azkaban prisoners but it was first developed to place students into classes at Beauxbatons – they were classed by how great their magical power was back then as this made it easier for them to be taught. I made a few changes to it for the purpose of determining the strength of the wandless magic of an Order member during the first war."

Draco sighed. "I guess…"

"It tastes like peppermint," Snape said.

"I don't like peppermint," Draco mumbled. "Is it ready?" He asked louder, for Snape to hear.

"It will be in—" Snape waved his hand casually in front of him. Three numbers, two separated by a colon appeared in front of him "—half an hour."

Draco nodded. They fell into a small silence, broken only by the creaking of the floorboards that marked the house they were currently as very old and not so well taken cared of. Draco had for a long time suspected this wasn't Snape's real residence, but he hadn't mentioned it. Snape had brought him here for a reason and Draco had decided – even before taking the potion to help him with occlumency – that Snape always had a reason for what he did and he needed to go along with it before he caused the murder of another Hogwarts's headmaster or headmistress.

"What about my ability is so important?" Draco asked, suddenly. To him it was perfectly ordinary. He had grown around people that could do this without thinking much of it. "My father," he continued, "never thought it was important whatsoever."

Snape frowned, and for a moment, Draco thought that he looked as if he wanted to say something – tell him something he didn't know about his father perhaps – but then having thought better of it, Snape said nothing.

"I've been meaning to bring up my father," Draco said, looking intently at Snape as if looking for some sign on Snape's face that would gave whatever he had wanted to say a moment before, away. Snape, as Draco had expected, did not allow his expression to change.

"What about your father?" Snape asked instead.

"Well, he's in Azkaban, isn't he," Draco said, still watching Snape. "He's also loyal to the Order – or am I not right about this?"

Snape nodded slowly.

"What I want to know," Draco said after a pause, "is why he's been still in Azkaban."

Snape looked as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He composed himself quickly, and took a moment before he answered. "Lucius Malfoy," he said when he finally spoke, "is not well respected within the Order. Few know of his true colors, and even they doubt him – you know the things your father has done in the name of Voldemort."

Draco nodded, although this didn't quite answer his question. "But he's still been put in there by him –" he began.

"Lucius will not be accepted by the Order, much less than I or you would if we entered their headquarters at this moment. There is something to be said about their loyalty to their family and friends. Lucius destroyed many lives during the first war and it will not be easy for them to allow him within their little group without Dumbledore to help it along."

Draco frowned. He had forgotten the prejudice against the Malfoy name. He and his father were still Death Eaters, and Snape no longer held a role in the Order's business. As much as he may want to have his father out of Azkaban, it wasn't going to happen – not when Voldemort had put him there and the Order wouldn't be happy to have him now meddle in their affairs. It was also not at all fair of him to ask for the release of his father when his father was guilty for a number of crimes that he should have been put in prison for.

Draco broke out of his thoughts when he heard Snape's chair slide back on the floor. Snape stood up, gave the cup a glance, as if thinking about taking it with him or not.

"I'll get the potion," he said to Draco.

Nodding, Draco watched him go. It was unfair for both of them, Draco realized; Snape estranged from his son, and he with a father in Azkaban. Draco found himself wondering, not for the first time, exactly how Harry Potter had come to be Severus Snape's son. He had asked him the night they fled from Hogwarts and had received a disgruntled answer of, "mind your own business". Draco hadn't brought it up since then, but it had been obvious to him at times that Snape suffered with his son angry at him over Dumbledore's death.

Potter hadn't seen, Draco had decided then, the pain that Snape had been in when he had done it. Potter hadn't noticed how Snape had let him punish him because he had thought he deserved it.

Draco didn't hear Snape enter the room again and nearly jumped out of his chair when Snape nudged his arm with an aluminum shot glass. He took it, after a moment's hesitation.

"Offering me alcohol now," Draco said, motioning to the shot glass.

Snape rolled his eyes at him.

The potion looked like water but for the hint of mint that Draco could smell when he brought the glass to his nose.

"Well, drink it," Snape said. He had gone around his desk and once more settled into his chair. "I promise it does not contain any form of poison – alcoholic or otherwise."

Draco gave it a dubious glance, and then tipped his head back and turned the glass upside down into his mouth. It did indeed taste like peppermint. It took less than a second for it take affect on him.

Suddenly, he could feel all the magic around him. It was crowding him, pulling him from all sides, wanting his attention – seeking for him to give it approval. There was magic all over the room, glowing and glinting with luminescent light floating about it. Draco wondered if magic always looked this appealing. He had never seen it so raw and ready to be taken from the air for use. Even Snape had a magical aura. His magic screamed of strength and until this moment, Draco had not realized just how strong Snape was magically.

Draco's gaze lingered on the cup, once he spotter on the desk. It was a bright shinning beacon of darkness. Spells surrounded it, and he could see them now, but these didn't call to him or allow him to determine what they were.

It was an exhilarating moment, with all the magic rushing around him, and all the random objects around the room singing their magic to him. And then everything began to shine less and the magic began to disappear, although Draco could feel it there and he felt now that if he wished it enough, what he had seen would come back. Everything settled back down and Draco shook himself. Magic still throbbed around him as he closed his eyes and it began to dull somewhat.

"Well," Snape said. His voice was far off, but Draco could still hear it. "I'm surprised."

Draco blinked a couple of times, willing the magic to be quiet in his ears and to stop trying to pull him towards it. After a few more tries – with the use of a small amount of legillimency, he managed it.

"Surprised?" he asked, then.

"You're much stronger than I realized," Snape said. "You ability is quite repressed, from what I saw. It hasn't come to be of much use in your daily life and so it's been deep within you. You can use it, of course, but not the stronger aspects of it. I assume with time and practice this will come to be very useful for the war effort."

Draco nodded. "How can I practice this, though?"

"I don't know," Snape said, and then added, "I think there might be something in the school library on this, however."

"It's not like we're ever going to go back there, now, is it?" Draco said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Somehow, we'll find a way to make this ability of yours help us in the war, even as little developed as it is. I noticed you looking at the cup. Did you see something on it?"

"A number of spells," Draco said. "I couldn't tell what. They were all dark, though. You'll have to go easy with that one."

"Yes, I know," Snape said.

"What exactly are you supposed to do with it?"

Snape shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that; just the fact that you know about it is risky enough."

Draco nodded with a frown. He would eventually find out why the cup was so important.

-

-

-

_September 5, 1998_

Draco didn't think it would make much of a difference if he cut the roots into what couldn't be considered to be the exact same size pieces. Everything was going into the potion anyway – what difference did it make if he cut everything up without a care to how even it all was. Snape wasn't paying attention, anyway, Draco noticed. He had become completely submerged in his own potion to care about what Draco was doing in the table next to his. Draco had already tested it out by pretending to add a rather volatile ingredient that would have destroyed his potion – Snape had said nothing.

Snape was working on the Wolfsbane Potion and Draco assumed that it was one of those potions that needed every bit of attention put to it. Snape had been brewing it for past three days and it seemed that he needed just a few more steps before he was done for the day, but for the moment he could do nothing but work on it, with complete concentration that Draco knew he should have associated with the potions master.

Draco watched him from the corner of his eyes. He moved about his table with fluidity. It was a dance – he added an ingredient here, cut something up with quick movements of his hands with his knife and then stirred counterclockwise four times followed by seven clockwise stirs. Draco turned back to his own potion and began to cut up the roots. He looked up when he heard the clink of something falling to the ground and a gasp.

"Wha—" Draco began, but it was then that Draco felt, coming to his arm a few second late – the burning of Voldemort's call.


	13. Where Things Get a Tad Complicated

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the reviews guys. We've reached a 100, so yay. And I definitely had fun writing this chapter and I know you'll all enjoy it.

And now to answer a review:

_**landsfan:**_

I read that this story is now compleate. If so will a sequel be posted? Hope so.

**_response: _**

I think you reviewed the wrong story. This is the sequel to the story I think you meant to review. Atoning the Past is the first story and this the second. Atoning is complete.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Thirteen  
_**

_Where Things Get a Tad Complicated  
_

_September 5, 1998_

Harry heard her scream – cut off by a silencing spell that had been placed on her. Artemis struggled in the Death Eaters' arms. With her right foot, she kicked him hard on the shin and managed to get away for a second, before he grabbed her again, muttering something to himself and then he and another Death Eater were pulling her – holding tight to her between them – towards the wooded area behind his house, at the edge of Godric's Hollow.

"Missing your little girlfriend, Potter?" asked a familiar voice that Harry couldn't place, obviously having witnessed what Harry had. He lifted his wand and flicked it towards the hooded and masked Death Eater all the while pulling at power from within like Faye had taught him.

The Death Eater dodged and laughed. "You can do better than that, can't you?" He asked. His voice wasn't mocking, but it seemed to Harry that he had meant to be mocking when he said that.

Harry looked towards where Artemis had been dragged off to. He wanted to run after her even while this battle went on around him, with spells flying back and forth missing targets, getting rebounded back, and hitting an unsuspecting person from time to time If not their targets.

Harry heard the spell coming at him and knew that he wouldn't have time to put up a shield before it hit him. He threw himself to the ground, just dodging it, and gathered a bit more of his magic before throwing – with the use of his wand – a spell at random. Then with his other hand, he pushed magic out towards this unknown Death Eater, who now fell back with surprise. And, then, Harry took off at a run.

He heard someone following him a few seconds later and hoped that it wasn't a Death Eater. Whoever it was, they hadn't shot any spells his way and Harry thought that this could easily mean whoever followed him was one of his allies.

Other than his own footsteps and those of the person following him, Harry heard nothing and wondered if while that other Death Eater had stalled him they had apparated away with her. He ran a hand through his head, agitated. What if they had taken her away? If they had, then her fate was sealed. She would die and all because of him. Harry cursed under his breath. He stopped and leaned back against a tree, closing his eyes and putting his head in his hands. Then, he heard them. How he had not been able to make out their voices, Harry didn't know, but now he could hear them just a little far off from where he was.

The two Death Eaters were arguing – all the better, Harry thought, for him.

"She's just a stupid muggle," one of them, the shorter one said.

"Yes, and Potter is somehow interested in her which makes her more than just a stupid muggle in his eyes and valuable in Lord Voldemort's."

Harry walked as close as he dared to them without being detected, and pressed himself up against a tree. It was best, he knew, to let them continue on with their argument and then get Artemis and somehow get her to a safe location before doing anything else.

"Let's just take her to him first," the second Death Eater said.

The first shook his head vigorously. "We should play with her first."

Harry watched, disgusted, as he reached towards Artemis, touching her cheek. Artemis flinched back, but he pulled her forward by the hair. Artemis opened her mouth and gave a cry that went unheard because of the silencing spell, and Harry thought that he had seen enough and would not let them hurt Artemis more.

He stepped out from behind the tree, with his wand raised and heard the crack of a twig behind him. Whoever it was that was following him had stopped a few feet behind, simply watching him. Harry wondered if he had should have made sure this wasn't an enemy earlier, but knew he couldn't turn back to face him or her now.

"Oh, what do we have here," one of the Death Eaters said. "Upset about us taking your girlfriend, are you, Potter?"

"Let her go," Harry said in what he hoped to be an intimidating voice.

Artemis looked up at him the moment she heard his voice. She looked, Harry thought, relieved.

The two Death Eaters laughed. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait your turn before playing with her, Mr. Potter," the second Death Eater said.

Harry didn't know how he had not seen exactly what they had been doing until the one closest to Artemis grabbed her by the arm, pulling her flush against him. Harry tried to take aim at him but knew there was a possibility he would hit Artemis if he did throw a spell at them. At the same time he tried to keep the other Death Eater within sight.

"Let her go," Harry repeated. "She has nothing to do with this. She's innocent."

The Death Eater holding her, laughed, and seeming to want only to infuriate Harry further, he buried his nose in Artemis' hair. She struggled and tried to get away, but couldn't.

Harry could almost feel himself shake in rage. He was so lost in trying to contain his anger lest he hurt Artemis, Harry did not pay as much attention to the other Death Eater as he had before. In those few seconds it took for Harry to be distracted, the Death Eater had moved with fluid precise movements and disappeared from Harry's sight, before shooting a spell his way.

Harry barely managed to block it, using the shield Lucius had taught him. He tried to locate his attacker, but saw no one, and realized his mistake at once. The Death Eater shot another spell his way – this one was unfamiliar and Harry didn't know if his shield would work to stop it. It didn't and Harry fell back against a tree when it hit him. His entire body erupted in warmth, coming from within – it was as if his very insides were beginning to burn. Harry was still for a moment and then he gathered up as much power as he could and sent it to end the spell that had been placed on him. Once it did, he got up.

"You really, shouldn't have done that," he told the Death Eater.

"Oh, really, Potter? What will you do? Didn't know what that spell was, did you? And to think you're the one who will supposedly defeat my lord." He laughed again.

Harry could still see Artemis struggling from the other Death Eater's grasp to his left, but for the time being Harry would try to just keep an eye on her while he tried to somehow get rid of this Death Eater.

"I'm just playing with you right now, Potter. I wonder how you would take an actual duel. In fact, why don't we have one now?"

Harry didn't think there would be enough time for him to duel this Death Eater and manage to get Artemis away undamaged, but knew there would be no other way to do this.

"First, you bow, Harry," the Death Eater said, mockingly. He had bowed to Harry with a leer and waited for him to follow his example.

Harry barely tipped his head at him and then began with spells ready at the tip of his tongue. His spell shot out of his wand and missed its target when the spell from the Death Eater, waylaid it. Both spells hit trees.

"Well, maybe you do know more than I expected you to know," the Death Eater admitted and moved quickly, shooting out a spell, followed by another. Harry tried to quickly form a shield in front of him, but it didn't quite work. He threw himself sideways, just missing the first spell, but the second grazed his shoulder, leaving a gash where it had touched him. It burned with pain, but Harry pushed it far from his mind – occlumency worked in this way too.

With anger on the surface of his thoughts, Harry began to really fight back, and soon spells were flying through the air sometimes hitting their targets but more often than not, missing and hitting trees, being rebounded on shields, or eaten up by other spells or shields. Harry tried hard to keep all spells away from Artemis and succeeded for the most part, although one or maybe two had been thrown their way and somehow been avoided.

"I'm going to go ahead and guess that you don't know this one," the Death Eater said in a muffled, nasally voice from the broken nose he had suffered when he had hit a tree face first, before he began a lengthy spell.

Harry tried to stop him by shooting out a number of spells that simply rebounded off of him. A bright light was thrown towards Harry and although he had two different shields up, prepared for anything that was shot his way, he wasn't prepared for this spell. He did know it, and he also knew there was no way he would survive it.

This spell would kill him slowly, but it would kill him and it was the perfect spell to throw at him – what would this Death Eater get when he took him to Voldemort in such a condition?

Harry didn't expect, then, to be shoved out of the way as the spell neared and Harry saw no way to stop it or even manage to move out of it's way – it was designed to follow someone until it hit that person unless it found another target first, and it seemed that this time it had.

At first, Harry thought it was the person that had followed him that had done this for him – sacrificed his or her own life, but then he realized that it was Artemis. He had dismissed the other Death Eater and Artemis to stand somewhere to his left with Artemis struggling to get out of his grasp, but he had forgotten the other person too, and this other person had managed to hit the other Death Eater with some sort of spell, and had erected a shield around Artemis, a shield that had done nothing to save her from this spell.

Artemis was breathing heavily on the ground in front of him, her eyes closed, but she was breathing and all of her vitals would tell anyone that saw her that she was as healthy as she was expected to be. No one would notice the spell that would kill her slowly like a disease that had yet to be determined. There was no cure and Harry knew then, as all the anger that had been bubbling up beneath the surface came up, that the Death Eater that had done this to her would pay for what he had done.

Magic, incredible and powerful engulfed him, throwing itself out of his body and wrapping itself tightly around him. Harry felt only a cold unhappiness in his gut and pain. Anger followed the pain with other swirling masses of emotion that he pressed away from him to the farthest recess of his mind. Hatred, however, clung to him and escaped angrily in the form of a green light that struck the Death Eater dead – and then, realization hit Harry. He had just killed a man.

-

-

-

Draco felt it like a sting. It was magic so powerful that he could feel it run from the bottom of his toes to the last hair on his head. The magic poured into him in excited tendrils and Draco felt as if the entire world had come to rest on him for that one second before they were extracted. But the magic had been enough to make everyone come to a stop – a few final spells dissipated in the air.

Draco wondered what was going on in the woods to lead to so much magic being expelled out, when he felt even more of it, wanting to pull him towards it. His magic wished to dance with this magic that Draco thought to belong to Harry Potter. It was the strength, Draco knew, that attracted his magic to Potter's – and such pure magic is was, too.

The magic wanted him to come, it was urging him to go forward and run into the woods. Draco shook his head. He knew better than to do that. Even if Snape hadn't told him to remain behind while he went after his son, Draco would have stayed with the other Death Eaters within this paused battle as they all waited for some sign from the woods. For a moment, when the magic became even more alluring to him, Draco considered going against Snape's wishes and following the pure magic – he changed his mind quickly and managed to stay in place only because he knew it would give the Death Eaters reason to suspect him if he did. It was already a precarious situation with Snape in the woods, particularly if Potter and the muggle got away, which – Draco thought – was what they wanted to happen.

He turned away from the woods and tried to ignore the singing magic that Draco wanted to be surrounded with. Not even throwing his occlumency shields up could help this and it continued on, getting bigger and more powerful as it went.

Whispers had erupted around him now, from the few that could feel the magic – to a smaller degree than Draco. Others were also talking, obviously knowledgeable enough, or having heard from one of the others, about what could have happened.

"It has to be Harry," Draco heard a woman whisper in a worried tone. "Someone should have gone with him – who knows what could be happening."

Draco turned to look at her and found a harried looking woman with bright red hair. She was obviously a Weasley. Standing next to her was another woman who looked slightly familiar. Draco squinted in her direction and then realized who she was. Fleur Delacourt, the part veela from Beauxbatons who was patting Mrs. Weasley and murmuring to her.

Other members of their group congregated together, most of them were Weasleys, but there was another woman that stood out of the crowd. She stood impassibly by herself as if uninterested to what was happening in the woods, although it was the direction in which she was looking. Draco didn't understand why he was so drawn to her and why he could continue staring at her for so long, but there was something about the way she was so different from the others and yet seemed to fit right into their group.

"Faye," one of the Weasley twins said to her, Draco didn't know which.

"Yes?" She asked.

"Would it be possible for Fred and I to get back to headquarters to fetch something?"

"I guess so," Faye answered. "Tell him everything goes well and to not wear the floor too thin."

George laughed, but nodded and walked back to join his twin. Draco watched them go, and made no move to stop them – neither did any of the other Death Eaters, they were so enthralled by the woods. When Draco turned to look at them once more, he realized why.

There was light erupting from within, coming out in all directions – not blinding but rather a dull light that Draco knew at once to be associated with quiet, reserved magic – magic that had been bursting to come out for a long time. And then Potter screamed, as if in pain and the light became brighter, before it began to recede and fade, allowing the star dotted sky to be known to them again.

-

-

-

Hogwarts was decidedly different – even the first years had taken notice of this. The castle was preparing itself for the war and no one living within its walls could be exempt from feeling its influence. Hogwarts was a quiet, solemn place now – the few students that had returned were missing friends, worried over family members, or their own futures.

The innocence that had clouded the students of Hogwarts the year before was gone, now, and Ron Weasley had found himself – upon realizing this – wishing more than ever, that Harry had taken him with him, or that Hermione was cured and she could offer some semblance of his previous years at Hogwarts. As it was, Ron had his girlfriend and his sister, which, he thought, ought to have been enough, but the truth of the matter was that he dearly missed his best friends.

As he walked down the third floor corridor, past the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and contemplated just how easily he, Harry, and Hermione had drifted apart in the last year. He had been too focused on Lavender to notice – although he did when Hermione pointed it out ceaselessly – that Harry had spent too much time on his lonesome. Some nights he hadn't even returned to the dorms, not that Ron could claim to having been there every night himself, but Hermione didn't need to know that.

Harry had been distant since his last birthday, and they had all attributed it to Sirius' death, but Hermione had told him that Harry seemed to be alright with it. Even Remus had admitted that he was proud of the way Harry handled it.

Ron sighed and turned the corner. From here he could spot Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He smiled faintly. Ah, but that bathroom brought back memories. He, Harry, and Hermione had brewed Polijuice Potion in there – well, Hermione had while he and Harry watched. It was also there that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets had been the entire time. Before Ron knew it, his feet had carried him towards the bathroom, and he had pushed the doors open and walked right in.

All the sinks but one were overflowing with water, and the dripping echoed around the room. Ron gave the only sink empty of water and single glance. He could spot the snake that Harry had talked to, making the Chamber open.

Ron was startled when he heard a wail from one of the stalls – the same one, Ron realized, they had used to hide the potion.

"Who's there?" Moaning Myrtle asked, suddenly, and her head popped out of the stall.

Ron jumped back, but managed to compose himself quickly.

"Oh," Myrtle said, looking a little perplexed, "it's you." Then, changing her tone of voice, entirely, she demanded, "What do you want?"

"Just remembering," Ron said. He coughed.

Myrtle sniffed. "It's too much to ask, isn't it?" she said through a bout of hic-cups.

"Too much to ask for what?" Ron asked.

"For someone to come see me!" Myrtle yelled at him, sniffed again and flew about the bathroom in quick precise movements, that Ron imagined had to be pure instinct by now to the ghost girl.

When she stopped, she sighed. "I guess you're all busy," she said. "I can feel it in the castle – there's a war coming, isn't there?"

Ron nodded.

"That's too bad," Myrtle said, and then added, "you should still visit me sometime. You're Head Boy now, unless a teacher sees you, you should be okay coming to see me."

Ron didn't know quite what to say to the lonely ghost girl. He had never been entirely fond of her – although, he reasoned, no one was bound to be, but for some reason, knowing that she had been part of the mystery and adventure of his second year made her just a little more interesting to him.

"It's the guy that killed you," Ron found himself saying. "The one that set the basilisk on you, he's the one that's started this war."

"Oh!" Myrtle cried and threw herself into the air again.

"Harry's out there now. I think he's gone looking for him or something – anyway, I miss him and I don't know where he is, or what he might be doing out there. Maybe he's hurt."

Myrtle stopped mid-air. "Is he, really?" She asked.

Ron thought her voice sounded excited. He nodded.

"No wonder I didn't see him. He'd be out there with his father then. Yes. He didn't come back either now that I think on it."

"His – his father?" Ron stuttered. "Harry's father is dead."

Myrtle, Ron thought, for a moment looked as if she wanted to argue this fact, but then she shook her head and nodded complacently. "Yes. Yes. You're right. What do I know?"

Ron frowned at her. "He would have told me," he said. "If Harry's father was alive he would have told me."

"Yes. He would have. You're right. I'm – I'm mistaken."

Ron ignored the fact that her voice wavered and that she did not at all sound like someone that knew they were right about something.

"Anyway, I've got to continue patrolling," Ron said and tried to push away the thoughts of Harry's father being alive and his not knowing about it.

Myrtle sighed and turned away and for a moment Ron wondered if he should invite her to come along, but decided that anyone seeing him enter or leave the girls' bathroom alone would assume he was crazy – taking a random ghost out for a stroll would make him seem even stranger.

"Bye, Myrtle," he called back to her before sticking his head out to make sure that no one was out there.

Once he knew he coast was clear, Ron went back out onto the corridor, and continued patrolling. Harry wouldn't lie to him or hide something as important as this from him. No. Harry would never do something like that. He was being stupid. Ron would know if Harry's father was alive. Yes, he would. Harry wouldn't keep that from him. Telling himself this, Ron continued down the hall.

Ron had walked only walked a few feet, before he heard muffled voices coming from an unused classroom ahead. After a moment's hesitation in which he pondered going to fetch Tonks who had taken over the post of defense against the dark arts, Ron went on to investigate on his own and found that the voices were quite familiar. With the knowledge that it wasn't students, and that whatever Tonks and McGonagall were talking about had nothing to do with him, Ron continued his patrolling. He had about half an hour more and then he could go back to Gryffindor Tower and sit with Lavender on the comfortable loveseat she had promised to wait for him on. He would have to make a trip to the kitchen's, and maybe stop by the infirmary beforehand, but Ron couldn't help but look forward to the time he would spend with his girlfriend. And thoughts of his best friend lying to him would not cloud his mind.

-

-

-

She was floating, but not quite in the free manner that she had been doing for the past week or so by her estimation. A few seconds before, translucent tendrils had wrapped around her legs, feet, arms, hands, and middle. She hadn't fought them. There was no use to fighting them anymore. They were in control and she could do nothing to stop them.

Hermione Granger, in other words, felt powerless. Her freedom had been taken from her as had her control and now she acted as a mindless puppet for their games – the games of those tendrils of pure magic that wrapped around her, that was.

They suddenly let her go.

Hermione fell backwards and exhilaration came over her, like the pleasant feeling of a breeze in the middle of a hot desert. The wind whipped her about, but she let it and allowed herself to be carried about in a happy high.

She could feel someone else invading her little personal bubble – but he wasn't dangerous. She had felt him before. He was a friend. She didn't recognize his name or exactly who he was, but she knew he was a friend to her and he would never hurt her – in fact, he would do everything to protect her.

He was talking to her. He couldn't tell exactly what he was saying, but his words were comforting as the same tendrils came after her. This time Hermione maneuvered in the place she didn't want to call the sky despite its blue tint and the white fluffy clouds that floated around her.

Hermione moved her arms and legs and as if she were swimming, she pushed herself as far as she could go and suddenly found herself flailing, just as if she had been hit by a wave in the ocean.

She gasped, and tried to pull herself away but one of them had taken the chance to wrap itself about her right leg, and it held on to her tight. Hermione felt no semblance of pain when she pulled herself away; but she knew it would also not let her go until it wanted to.

She stopped fighting and allowed herself back into their controlling hands.

Something was happening. There was pain and screaming and the world seemed to be coming to an end. Magic coursed through the air, whispering sweet nothings into the air, pushing and pulling. There was love, there, too, pure and unaltered love meant only for her. Hermione grasped at it and felt a wonderful array of thoughts and feelings come into her.

With a small scream emitted from her throat without her consent she was free from the tendrils and she felt his magic reach deep into her as if wanting to pull her out of her state. But it couldn't.

Hermione wept for the magic, but let it know that it was alright. It wasn't strong enough, but soon – soon it would know how to rescue her, and then she would be back with them, ready to face the war that the tendrils whispered to her about.

"Soon," she murmured, "soon, little stag, you'll come for me."


	14. Reunited

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the reviews, guys. You're great! And here is ch. 14...which I really enjoyed writing just because the anticipation was killing me. Anyway, enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Fourteen  
_**

_Reunited  
_

_September 5, 1998_

Severus stepped out of his hiding place, and walked, without making a sound, towards Harry. Harry was staring mindlessly at the Death Eater he had killed. His wand was held loosely in his right hand, and he appeared to be shaking. The signs of shock surprised Severus. Killing someone – particularly a Death Eater who had thrown such a dark spell at him – shouldn't have affected Harry this much. Or at least, considering the circumstances, it shouldn't have affected him so much. Severus frowned. Maybe he didn't know Harry as well as he had hoped he did if this was sending him into such a state. He had always imagined Harry ready for the war – ready to do anything possible to win it. It appeared, now, that he had been wrong just as he had been wrong on so many other things concerning Harry. He wondered why it even surprised him anymore.

Severus faintly heard the sound of apparition behind him and cursed softly – he should have made sure the other Death Eater was incapacitated before making any sort of movement towards Harry. And now, he found himself with another problem – Harry's muggle friend had been taken, and even in her state, with only a few months left to live, Harry would not rest one moment until he got her back.

There was nothing to it. He had reached the moment he had been yearning for since the night he had committed the most atrocious of acts. Seeing Harry and being so close to him had brought it all back and now all he wanted to do was to beg for Harry's forgiveness and explain in full detail what part he had played on the night Dumbledore died. He wanted to make sure Harry understood exactly what had happened on the night he had over heard the prophecy and he wanted, more than anything, to get back to the relationship they had had before Harry ran into Trelawney.

When Severus finally walked to stand in front of Harry, he realized that Harry's magic was still as uncontrollable as it had been when it had stricken the Death Eater down.

This was a result of his emotions going haywire, and for a moment, Severus just stood there, looking at him, not knowing what to do.

"Harry," he said softly.

Harry didn't respond. Severus called his name a number of times, but received nothing. Harry didn't even blink. He stood as stiff as a statue, his eyes trained on the dead Death Eater. Severus stepped closer to Harry, so that he blocked Harry off from the Death Eater. Harry blinked a number of times before a strangled sob left him. He still did not seem to be aware of his surroundings, although he turned towards the left, as if he was making to leave the woods. He stumbled upon his first step and reached for something to hold on to. He grabbed onto Severus' arm, and he stiffened, letting go immediately and stumbling backwards, away from him like a hurt animal.

Harry pressed himself up against the nearest tree and looked around, despite the fact that it was obvious he didn't know what he was seeing. Severus walked forward and took Harry by the shoulders, softly. Harry fell into him with his eyes closed, right before he passed out.

Severus took the wand from Harry's hand and slipped it into his robes pocket, before he lifted Harry into his arms. The weight of his son was welcome to his arms and Severus relished in having Harry at such a close proximity after so many months of not having even been allowed to look in on him. After making sure that Harry was in the most comfortable position in his arms, Severus scanned the forest surrounding him and apparated away without much thought to what the Order members fighting in the small village of Godric's Hollow would say when Harry did not return, or what Draco would make of his not escorting him home as he tended to do after doing something for Voldemort.

Severus apparated directly into Harry's bedroom, feeling the wards that he, Remus, and Dumbledore had put around the house more than a year ago, throbbing around him. He hadn't been back at the house since Christmas when he had been there with Harry and while he had considered bringing Draco there a number of times, particularly after he finally learned his occlumency or just so he wouldn't stop complaining about the shabbiness of Spinner's End. Severus had never felt comfortable, however, with even thinking of going back without having Harry with him. And now he did.

Harry's room looked exactly as it had back when they had last been in the house during Christmas, except for the layer of dust that had settled on every piece of furniture in the room. Severus waved his hand over Harry's bed to get rid of it, and then gently put Harry down with his head resting on his pillow. Severus watched him for a moment, before walking to the closet and looking for a blanket, which he draped over Harry, before conjuring himself a chair and sitting down at Harry's bedside.

Cautiously, as to not wake Harry, Severus reached out to touch him. He brushed away the hair that had fallen into his eyes and realized, then, when finally looking closer at him, that Harry had changed.

His face resembled his own so much, now, that there would be no mistaking the fact that Harry was his son. It didn't help, Severus thought, that Harry's hair was longer now and that it had darkened considerably. Harry was also, Severus noticed, no longer even using his glasses. There was so much more of Lily in him now than just the color of his eyes. It was particularly noticeable in his facial features if someone looked closely enough.

Severus brushed away the hair that covered his scar, only to discover that Harry's scar was startling red. Severus withdrew his hand, and Harry gave a low whimper. Severus smiled faintly at him, stood up and walked out of the room to fetch a few potions. With the night that Harry had had so far, he would need them. They would deal with everything else, come morning. The coming of morning was something he was both dreading and yearning to come quicker.

From a cabinet in his office, Severus withdrew two potions that he knew would still work well. He planned to magic them directly into Harry's stomach so as to not wake him, and then he would go see to Draco and maybe inform the one person in the Order that knew of his real loyalties that Harry was alright. He could get Harry to write Faye or one of the Weasley's a letter the next morning if Harry didn't run away screaming from him upon waking up.

Severus remained at Harry's side for a few more minutes after he had spelled the potions into his stomach. He had not realized just how much he had missed Harry until he had spotted him in the middle of the battle. For a moment, he had simply looked on as he moved with fluidity while fighting one of his fellow Death Eaters, and even then he hadn't wanted to lose sight of Harry when he turned back to his own opponent.

He stood up, and gave Harry one final look, before apparating behind the house that had once belonged to Lily and James Potter. He realized within moments, his mistake. Of course they had all left. Even Draco hadn't waited for him. Severus wondered if he had gone home or to Spinner's End where he had taken to stay to escape his mother.

Godric's Hollow seemed peaceful enough, and Severus knew, that the Order had taken care to make sure that the muggles were somehow convinced that nothing strange had happened.

Severus apparated without a second thought, directly to Spinner's End, and found Draco sitting in front of a fire, twirling his wand in his fingers and from time to time shooting out stars at the ceiling.

"I guess that answers the question on how my ceiling became multi-colored three days ago," Severus said, startling Draco, who jumped up, dropping his wand.

"I wondered if you'd come home," Draco said. "So, what happened to Potter? I thought you had brought him here."

"Never mind that," Severus said. "I've come to fetch a few things. I think I trust you enough to allow you to remain here by yourself, but for the next day or so I'll be spending some time with Harry explaining a few things."

Draco frowned. "I thought we might be able to go to Hogwarts tomorrow," Draco said. "And what about the potion you left at my house?"

"Hogwarts would have been out of the question, even disregarding the events of tonight. The Potion will be alright and it is not my main priority."

"No, of course not," Draco said. "Potter is."

Severus didn't bother answering and instead continued up to his office. He heard Draco following behind him.

"And where is Potter, anyway?"

Severus hesitated before answering Draco. "He's at my other residence," he said finally.

"Ha! I knew it," Draco said. "There was just something about this place that never stroke me as you. I think I'd like to see this place."

"And I think, that Harry has had enough for one night, and that he will have a worse morning once he hears about his muggle friend as well as a number of other things. I also think, that adding you into the mix will not help him."

Draco sighed. "Oh, alright. I didn't mean right now anyway. But, I do plan on staying here. Mother is just unbearable. Have you heard what she wants from me now? We're in the middle of war and all she can think about is who I will get married to in the near future. I'm not a breeding horse, god damn it. If she wants another child running around her house, she should go adopt one or something, not expect me to give her any."

Severus snorted, all the while he gathered a few documents and books that he had kept there about the curse that had been thrown at the muggle girl. Maybe he and Harry could come up with some sort of spell or potion that could help her.

"What's all that for?" Draco asked.

"You're very talkative today," Severus replied without bothering to look up from where he was flipping through pieces of parchment.

"He's not hurt is he? All that stuff looks like it's for some sort of spell."

"Harry is not hurt, but his muggle friend is and I'm afraid that Harry will not rest until he finds a way to save her, when he finds out what happened to her. Not to mention a Death Eater took her."

"She could be dead already," said Draco.

"I know," Snape replied.

They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the crinkling of parchment while Severus flipped through it, and the creaking of floorboards as he moved about the messy room. Draco leaned against the doorframe and was watching him, wondering just how Potter had gotten so lucky to have a father like this one that would go to the depths of the world to protect and care for him.

"So, do you think he'll listen to you," Draco ventured after a few minutes.

"I don't know," Severus said, not adding that he hoped that Harry would and that on this he would push harder than he had ever for anything before.

He had had Harry back for only a miniscule part of an hour and the thought of losing him because Harry took after him in stubbornness was not a prospect that he looked forward to. Harry just had to listen to him.

"Maybe you can tie him up first," Draco suggested.

Severus rolled his eyes. "That would make him trust me a whole lot, Draco."

"Worth a try," Draco muttered.

"You do realize, that the little bathroom incident between the two of you is something I will discuss with him, Draco," Severus said, once he had managed to stuff everything he had on the spell into a small worn bag.

"And what, he'll get off easy, not having to take a horrible potion like I did," Draco said.

"There is more to that day than you realize, Draco, and I do not wish to go into it now, but I just wanted you to be aware that Harry and I will talk about that day in great detail if things go as I hope they will, and that although you are not without blame, Harry also has certain things to own up to."

Draco nodded once, and watched Snape reach into a drawer that he knew he kept magically shielded.

"You're taking the cup with you," Draco said.

"A bargaining chip," Severus said.

"And of course, Potter probably knows all about it and why you were so intent on getting it."

Severus rolled his eyes at Draco. "Have a good night, don't destroy my house, and try not to paint the ceilings different colors."

Draco grumbled a little, but nodded pleasantly. "I still want to see that other house. Give Potter my best for me."

Severus nodded and with that apparated back home.

-

-

-

_September 6, 1998_

For a single moment everything was perfect. Harry felt wonderful. There was a warm blanket around him and he was lying on a comfortable bed. There was something familiar about where he was but he didn't open his eyes to determine exactly where that was. He heard footsteps and the door to the room creak open, but still, Harry did not open his eyes. Whoever had come in walked to his bedside and Harry was tempted to open his eyes and see who it was that stood over him, but thought better f it. Instead he lay as still as he could and waited.

"Harry," The silky voice that Harry could have recognized anywhere made him open his eyes at once.

And there he was – Snape – looking just like Harry remembered him.

With his eyes wide, Harry scooted to the other side of the bed as if the space in between him and Snape would protect him. Once in the farthest corned of his bed, Harry proceeded to wrap his arms around his legs, resting his chin atop his knees. This was a nightmare – something that had happened so many times in his dreams that just knowing he was truly there brought forth a maelstrom of emotions that he didn't know how to handle. And questions permeated his mind. Why was Snape here? Had he captured him for Voldemort?

"Harry," Snape said again, and continued, this time, with, "I'm not here to hurt you. Look around you, Harry, no one could ever hurt you here."

It was his room in the house that had been warded specifically for his protection. The room had remained just as he had left it eight months before. This house, Harry knew – other than Harry himself – also remained one of Snape's biggest secrets and he would not give it out only to trick Harry for Voldemort, would he? Only a handful of people – as far as Harry knew – were aware of Snape even owning a house other than Spinner's End, much less it's location.

"Why am I here?" Harry asked, hesitantly.

The running strings of thoughts that contradicted each other in his mind were simply too distracting as he waited for Snape to answer his question. On the one side, he knew he had promised Faye to at least listen to Snape, but on the other, he didn't want to know the absolute truth of what had happened that night because there was one thing that Harry knew to be certain – Snape had killed Dumbledore.

"You were in shock," Snape said. "I couldn't just leave you there. Who knows what else could have happened to you."

It all came back to him, now. He had killed that Death Eater – the one that had cursed Artemis. Artemis!

Snape, seeming to know exactly what he was thinking, spoke before Harry could inquire after her.

"It was my fault," Snape said. "I could only think about making sure you were alright. I know now I should have taken care of the other Death Eater first."

"So they took her," Harry said, interrupting Snape.

Snape nodded once.

Harry closed his eyes tightly. Artemis had been taken by Death Eaters and she would most likely be treated like dirt just for associating with him and having been born a muggle. Harry opened his eyes again.

"I have information on the spell placed on her," Snape offered. "And I will do my best to get her back to you."

Harry frowned at Snape – he wanted to help him? What more could this morning bring? He was going to have to listen to Snape, it was obvious to him, now, and what else could come of that? Maybe he could et Snape to explain everything to him the next day and he could remain in this room for hours coming to terms with the fact that he had killed a man, and that he had been the reason Artemis would most likely die.

"How are you?" Snape asked suddenly.

"Rattled, I guess," Harry said. "Too much has happened so fast."

Snape looked as if he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself from doing so.

"I – I killed a man," Harry continued. "I had absolutely no control over myself. I killed him."

"And he would no doubt, have killed you the first chance he got."

Harry nodded slowly, to show that he knew that, before continuing, "I could have done something else – I didn't have to kill him."

Snape didn't say anything and Harry was glad for the silence, despite the fact that awkwardness fell over them.

"There's breakfast," Snape said suddenly. "It's in the kitchen if you care for any. I thought we could talk afterwards if you felt up to it."

"I guess," Harry said. His whole world had been turned upside down yet again by this Snape that seemed like an impostor of the man that had taught him potions – this Snape was not even like the one he had known outside of the classroom and in the confines of his rooms in the Hogwarts dungeons. This Snape was a completely different man.

"I'll be down in a minute," Harry said, when Snape had turned to leave. "And…thanks. For, you know, not leaving me there, or, I don't know, not taking me to Voldemort or something."

Snape gave him an incredulous look, shook his head and despite the fact that once again he seemed to want to say something, he turned the doorknob and made to walk out of the room. Harry's voice stopped him.

"I don't trust you," Harry said. "I will listen to your explanation, but I don't trust you. At the first chance I get I will leave."

Snape was holding his tongue yet again, but he stopped himself, and hid whatever it had been behind his occlumency walls. He nodded solemnly at Harry, and then finally whispered as he left so that Harry only barely caught it, "if that is what you wish."

For what could have been the thousandth time that morning alone, Harry felt like screaming. He was so confused and frustrated and he didn't even know why he felt so guilty over having told Snape his true feelings about the entire matter. Shaking the thoughts off and using just a bit of oclumency for his own sanity, he slowly got out of bed.

He looked a right mess. His clothes were crumpled, and his hair stuck out in odd angles, but he was glad to note that there were no bags under his eyes which gave him the indication of having had a good night sleep.

Glad that he had left a few clothes in his room in this house, Harry took a quick shower to get rid of the grime of the battle and fixed the few cuts and scraped that covered his chest and legs. He had been lucky, during the battle and even the duel afterwards, to not have been hit by something serious, though it had often been aimed at him. Afterwards he changed into fresh robes, ran a comb through his hair and thought that soon he would need to have a haircut, before he took a deep breath and once more throwing some occlumency walls into his mind, he walked out of his room and down the familiar corridors to the kitchen.

Snape was sitting in the same spot that he had sat during the time they had lived there together – at the head of the table. A tea cup was held in his hand, while the Daily Prophet was spread out in front of him, while he shook his head at whatever new edict Voldemort had gotten passed with the help of the new corrupt Ministry of Magic. Harry came to an immediate stop, holding the door before it closed and just looking in at the scene before him. It was so familiar that for a moment Harry found himself wistfully wishing that things were back to how they had been back then.

Snape suddenly looked up. Harry's eyes met his and Snape motioned for him to take a seat. Harry moved towards table and came to a stop halfway to his usual chair. A golden cup sat directly in the middle of the table and Harry recognized it at once. He looked from it and back to Snape, and then back at the cup again.

"What is that doing here?" He asked.

"It's what I have been working on for the past few weeks," Snape said. "I thought that you might want to see it. I haven't figured out a way to destroy it yet without causing any harm to myself, but here it is."

"It's Hufflepuff's cup," Harry said as he took his seat, and reached to pick it up.

The cup looked just as it had in the memory he had last seen it in, and now it was here in front of him.

"Where – how?" Harry asked, excitedly.

Snape chuckled. "I'll explain everything after breakfast. Eat something."

Until that moment Harry hadn't realized just how hungry he was. He had been so preoccupied with everything that he hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before and now that he saw the food around him, he reached for a bit of everything and piled his plate and then began to eat.

The silence now was not at all awkward, in fact, Harry could easily compare it to the silence that they had shared once while having meals in the same house a little over a year ago. It was what would come after breakfast that worried Harry. After seeing the cup it had become all too clear to him that he had been wrong about Snape betraying them and that there had to be more to Dumbledore's death than he had been willing to see when it had happened. All that was left now was for Snape to explain how, and after seeing the cup, Harry didn't think that he was too opposed to hearing an explanation for all of it.


	15. Long Awaited Explanations

**Author's Note: **Thank you everyone for all the reviews...they were great. Enjoy the chapter. Please review.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Fifteen  
_**

_Long Awaited Explanations  
_

_September 6, 1998_

The headline on that morning's paper would be problematic, Severus thought, as he walked ahead of Harry to his office. He was dreading what would come of this meeting, just like he had been dreading seeing Harry awake and conscious of what was going on around him. But it had gone better than he expected, and that in itself was something. And despite the fact that Harry had already made it clear that he did not trust him, Severus thought that Hufflepuff's cup had given Harry a push in the right direction.

"You haven't come here since Christmas," Harry said. "I would have thought this to be the perfect place after—" Harry trailed off and neither of them had to continue what he had meant to say.

Severus opened the door for Harry and allowed him inside first, before following. This was all strangely reminiscent of the first few Occlumency lessons they had conducted within that room.

Harry chose the armchair directly in front of Severus' desk and waited. In his hand rested the cup, golden and gleaming. Severus walked around his desk and for a moment just watched Harry.

"So," Harry said. He put the cup down on the desk between them. "What exactly do you have to tell me?"

Severus was still not sure about how exactly he would go about telling Harry everything, but he did know that for at least certain parts of it, he would require the need of his pensieve.

"How much do you know about the Horcrux that Dumbledore destroyed last year?" He asked Harry, finally.

Harry frowned in thought. "Not much. Or, I don't know…I don't think he said much about it."

Severus nodded. "I suppose he wouldn't have."

"Well, what about it, then?" Harry asked.

"The way that a Horcrux is, I guess, made and whatever protection the Dark Lord has added to them makes them rather hard to destroy. The ring was a particularly hard one and Albus in a strange bout of Gryffindor foolishness – perhaps it was due to the fact that he had found it and he had some idea how to get rid of him – attempted to destroy it without much thought to himself or that a Horcrux is not just an everyday item."

"But he knew it was Voldemort's soul," Harry said, "or at least a piece of it. He wouldn't have been as careless as all that."

Even he himself still had a hard time believing that Dumbledore had overlooked that finer detail about the Horcruxes before he had attempted to destroy it.

"I must say, Harry, that I too would never have expected something like this from him. However, it did happen. Albus mistook the power that the Horcrux had. Perhaps, that had something to do with how easily you destroyed Tom's diary. Anyhow, Dumbledore destroyed the ring with a handy little spell that would have done away with anything that was of this nature, however, and he did not realize this until he had finished casting the spell. The spell and the ring's magic combined pulled at his life for disrupting it, I guess, and Dumbledore fought back. He won, but with a cost – his hand."

Harry looked befuddled. "What does this have to do with anything?" He asked.

"It has a great deal to do with everything," Severus said. "There is a lot of dark magic residing within a Horcrux and Albus was so much of the light that it attacked him in a way that even if he survived the attack, he would be left with a wound so fatal that it would only give him a few months to live."

"But then—" Harry said, trailing off, frowning at Severus.

Severus took a moment to answer. "Dumbledore was dying," he whispered at last. "Didn't you notice, Harry, how frail he was?"

"I guess – maybe. I don't know," Harry said. "But if he was dying, then why did you kill him. He would have died regardless."

"There is more to my explanation that you need to understand," Severus said. He was regarding Harry with just a tad bit of surprise – he had expected something more than this silent, confused acceptance that Harry was exuding.

"What else?" Harry asked.

"I think rather than telling you, I will show you," Severus said. He stood up and walked around his desk to a cabinet on the far side of the room. From there he withdrew an empty pensieve.

Severus set it down in the desk in front of Harry next to the Horcrux, before withdrawing his wand to extract the memory that he wanted to show Harry.

A few memories fell into the basin and Harry hesitated before he stood up, looking down into its depths. "Are you coming with me?" He asked.

Severus had for the moment the impression of a small child, when looking at Harry, and not for the first time he found himself wondering what Harry had been like during his early childhood. He nodded once at Harry, in answer, and motioned for him to go first.

Harry leaned forward, gave Severus a last glance and then fell into the pensieve. Severus took a deep breath before following, wondering how Harry would take knowing that once again something had been kept from him.

Harry looked at him when he landed beside him in the Malfoy's drawing room.

"When did this take place?" He asked.

"August or September last year," Severus answered and watched as he, with Narcissa Malfoy, and Bellatrix Lestrange spoke about Draco's task. And before he knew it, the unbreakable vow was being formed.

"Will you, Severus, watch over my son, Draco, as he attempts to fulfill the Dark Lord's wishes?" Narcissa asked.

Harry next to Severus looked back at him. "Why did you do this?" He asked.

Severus sighed. "It was the only way I could keep going as a spy. I'm even surprised now that Voldemort does not know I am your father, you look so much like me and many Death Eaters saw you last night."

Harry shrugged and turned back to the scene before him.

"I will," his father said.

A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire.

Harry had never before witnessed an unbreakable vow being made, and now that he was watching it happen before his eyes – even if this was in a memory form – he couldn't help but be transfixed, despite the fact that this vow that Snape was making would lead to events that Harry didn't even want to think about.

"And will you, to the best of your ability, protect him from harm?"

"I will," Severus said.

Severus ignored the memory and watched Harry. He thought his son must have gotten better at occlumency to be able to look as if this wasn't affecting him at all.

"And, should it prove necessary…if it seems Draco will fail…" whispered Narcissa, "will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered Draco to perform?"

"So, that's why," Harry said. "You rushed in and had to kill him – even if Draco had been convinced to not do it."

Severus nodded. "He was going to die anyway. We fought over this many times. Dumbledore – he expected me to kill him."

"But he was begging," Harry said. "He was begging you not to do it there on the tower."

Severus shook his head slowly just as silence befell the memory.

"I will," memory Snape said.

"Then what was he begging?" Harry asked, looking from the memory to Severus.

The last tongue of flame wound around their hands, and interlinked with the others almost snake like, and then they all disappeared.

Narcissa was crying silently. "Thank you, Severus, thank you. I knew you'd be able to help us."

"He was begging me to kill him," Severus whispered.

The memory was clear in his mind. Dumbledore was already so weak he would have died within the next twenty four hours, and he had given Severus that look of helpless urging. His mind had yelled "kill me" and Severus had wanted nothing more than to use healing spell. He had wanted to keep him around just a little longer, but all of the Death Eaters surrounded him, and Draco looked shaken. He'd finally realized just what it meant, to kill someone. And Dumbledore was begging.

The words had left him and he had regretted them instantly. He had watched as Dumbledore's body had fallen and then he had turned and left, using every ounce of his strength to keep from falling to the ground in a mess of crumbling pain for losing the man that had been for the most part the reason he was even still alive.

"So you killed him," Harry said.

"We both would have died if I hadn't at that moment," Snape said. "If, however, he had died before Draco went after him – a result of a certain bathroom incident – then I wouldn't have had to do that."

"Then, he made you do it," Harry said.

"In a way," Snape said just as the memory around them swirled and changed.

"What's this one?" Harry asked.

"It's something else that we haven't yet discussed," Severus said. "What lead to a certain bathroom incident."

Harry, Severus noted, paled a little at the second mention of the bathroom incident, although perhaps it could have been at the prospect of finally addressing what Harry had accused him of being.

In this memory Severus was younger, just a few years older than Harry in fact, which made their resemblance even closer, but made the Lily in Harry stand out far more.

The Hog's Head had never been a very respectable establishment, but it was cheap and perfect for someone trying to save up their money. When the twenty-one year old Snape entered the pub, he came upon an almost empty pub. Two hooded men were sitting in a corner, their heads together.

A few other people were scattered throughout the pub, but there were many unused tables. Severus ignored them and walked directly to the bar.

"Why were you here anyway?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore had told me he was meeting someone here," Severus answered, looking directly at Harry and ignoring the memory. "I was supposed to wait for him down here, but I was already late for a meeting – with James and Lily consequentially – and I was looking to talk to Dumbledore quickly and leave. But, Dumbledore was in another meeting."

Harry frowned, turning back to the scene before them.

The slightly younger looking bartender that Harry recognized as still working at the Hog's Head had said something gruffly to Snape and motioned for him to take a table, which the younger Snape did in a disgruntled manner.

"The bartender had told me I would have to wait because Dumbledore was currently in a meeting in one of the rooms upstairs," Severus explained. "Of course I was all too eager to go meet with Lily and James. It was one of the few days I could and I wouldn't lose it only because we had to play this out for Voldemort's benefit."

Harry looked at him questioningly.

"You'll see," Severus said with a tight smile.

When the bartender had turned away, the younger Snape had headed in the direction of the stairs.

Harry and Snape followed.

The stairs were rickety, and at best, Harry assumed that they would have survived just a few more years unless magic was used to strengthen them.

They didn't have to go far, before they came upon a door that was cracked open just a little bit. Through this crack, you could see a younger version of Professor Trelawney, and although she looked as if she could have easily been beautiful, the oversized glasses on her face, her harried hair, and the number of beaded necklaces that resided around her neck made her instead look like an experiment gone wrong.

She was sitting across from a somewhat younger Dumbledore, and seeing him made Severus' heart constrict. Harry next to him gasped. For a moment neither released a breath. And then the moment was over, because Sybil Trelawney had stiffened and began saying the prophecy.

Hearing it from Trelawney again made the entire thing more real for Severus, and when he looked at Harry to see his reaction, he noticed a resigned expression on his face.

The younger Severus had pressed his ear against the door, but pulled back when he heard footsteps. Throwing the room a longing glance, he ducked into a closet just in time to miss the bartender, who walked past them and into another room.

Memory Severus got out of his closet and once more walked to the other room, but Trelawney who had just finished saying the prophecy and who had spotted Severus standing out in the hall.

"Who's that?" She asked.

Dumbledore turned and saw Severus.

"Severus," He said.

Severus without a place to disappear to, opened the door wider.

"I was looking for you, Professor, seeing as we needed to talk about…" He trailed off.

Dumbledore was giving him one of those piercing looks that told Snape at once that he knew exactly what he wanted and what he had heard.

"I am sorry, Sybil," Dumbledore said, turning back to Trelawney. "I'm afraid I forgot I had to meet young Severus here. I will of course be in contact with you. I rather think I have come to a decision from just out meeting here."

Trelawney glared at Snape, but gave a short nod at Dumbledore who had all but told her that she did indeed have the job.

Dumbledore led Severus out of the room and down the stairs.

"What was that? Was it a prophecy? I thought I heard it right – does that mean what I think it means."

Dumbledore took his arm to stop him.

"Oh," Severus said, and composed himself.

"It's quite alright, my boy, and now, we must get through with this. I will go in first."

Harry watched with interest as Snape waiting in the stairs for a few minutes before following after Dumbledore, and once he was there, the old atmosphere of mutual respect was gone and instead it had been replaced by one of annoyance, dislike, and hope.

"Hello, Professor," Severus said, and sat down. "I am so glad you have chosen to meet with me."

"Yes. Well. I've heard a great deal of your potions skills, my boy. I have met no one that has not praised your ability with a cauldron. However, Professor Slughorn is not looking to retire for another year or two."

"I am not coming to inquire after the Potions position," Severus said. "I heard you had not found someone yet to take on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post and I wondered if I could."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Out of the question," he said. "I must say, when I received your letter I did consider you, but not for that post. No. I do not see it suited to you."

Severus huffed, and stood up. "Then I am loosing my time," he said haughtily.

"Perhaps I will accept you in a couple of years," Dumbledore went on calmly. "Maybe not for your desired post – but I will need a Potions Master, then."

Severus sneered at him and walked out of the pub.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"It was what I was there for. Dumbledore and I would stage his refusal to give me a post as a teacher at Hogwarts – all for Voldemort's eyes of course. My great mistake was of course the prophecy. I should never have tried to hurry everything along, or been stupid enough to mention it outside of Trelawney's room as I did."

Harry frowned. "What happened, then?" he asked.

"I of course, in my excitement to see Lily, and perhaps even because to me it did not seem important, when I did go back to Voldemort I let him see me mention a prophecy. And then, after a bit of torture, after all I hadn't come out and said as Voldemort would have expected his most loyal to do, I had to tell him what I knew. I had no way of knowing how close to home he would strike."

Severus watched Harry and waited for him to say something, anything, to show that he either hated him still for not having been careful enough with this or if he accepted what had happened in the past.

Harry, however, kept his face blank.

"Are there any more memories?" he asked.

Severus shook his head.

Harry nodded and then, with his eyes closed he pulled back from the pensieve. Severus took a deep breath and prepared himself to maybe face some disappointment, before he too left the pensieve and found himself once more in his office.

Harry had sat down and was looking away from him. He was still as a statue, reminding Severus of the state he had been in the night before, but this time there was something more about the way he sat.

"Harry," Severus said.

"I was so wrong about everything," Harry said. "I don't even know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything," Severus said. Hope was filling his chest at Harry's words.

"But I was wrong. I accused you of being the reason Lily and James are dead, and then I had that fight with Malfoy and I was so – I don't know, jealous. And then you killed Dumbledore and I just – I couldn't handle it."

Severus shook his head. He was just as much at fault as Harry was for everything.

"And now, Artemis is going to die. And Hermione – oh, Hermione! You have to help her. You must know the countercurse! Or a potion or something."

Harry was rambling now, going about something else and Severus had no idea what it was. "Harry," he said, an attempt at trying to get him to stop. "Harry," he said louder.

Harry trailed off with something about Faye.

"It's alright, Harry," Severus said. "You made a mistake and I have made so many others that might have helped this along. I have not been munificent in telling you about my past. I do not like reliving it and that is the source of this. Had we not fought none of this would have come to pass and I am as much at fault for that as you are."

Harry turned to look at him. "But I was the one that accused you," he said softly.

"And I am the adult and I yelled at you and lost my temper twice in one day," Severus said.

Harry didn't say anything. He sat there looking down at the floor with a frown. Severus kneeled in front of him, and reached for Harry's face, which he tilted slightly upward. "You are my son," he said, "in every imaginable way. Nothing can ever change that. This thing – these misunderstandings – they aren't important. We're both at fault. We went about this in a way that was bound to lead us to such a problem."

"What?" Harry whispered.

"Lack of communication," Severus explained. "Ignoring things and just letting them lie. That didn't exactly work for us."

"No, I meant, you didn't just take me in because of Dumbledore…"

Severus shook his head. Was this what Harry had thought all along? That he was a burden inflected on him by Dumbledore. At first perhaps it had seemed that way, but that hadn't lasted for long. Their relationship had changed. Severus had begun to see Harry as his son and he had been obviously fond of him.

"Is that what you thought?"

"You mean to say that's not true," Harry said with a confused expression.

"At first I wanted nothing to do with you – but this was before I got my memories back. Afterwards, I realized that you were my son – my flesh and blood. You were mine and Lily's. I guess James' as well and I didn't want to ever again miss any part of your life," Severus explained. His hands had never left Harry's face, and although Harry was staring at a spot over Severus' shoulder, Severus could see a mixture of emotions clouding him.

Severus let go of Harry's face when Harry said nothing, and stood up. He didn't expect to almost be knocked down to the ground when Harry launched himself at him.

Severus who had always found hugs entirely too awkward didn't know what to do and after a moment managed to put his arms around his son. He didn't understand at first why he felt so invigorated by this hug, but then it hit him. This was Harry. This was his son and he was hugging him. He wasn't yelling at him or cursing his name or doing any of the other number of things that he had expected from Harry – in fact he was doing the complete opposite.


	16. Pizza

**Author's Note: **Last chapter certainly was a good one with Snape and Harry back together and without many misunderstandings between them anymore. And I'm so glad so many of you liked it. And I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well. Thanks for all the reviews and enjoy. The title of this chapter is something I really had a hard time coming up with, mostly because I couldn't find something that went along with the whole chapter and I really liked the Draco scenes in this chapter and I hope you all like it too.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Sixteen  
_**

_Pizza  
_

_September 10, 1998_

Draco slammed yet another cupboard closed and groaned. How could Snape have every potions ingredient known to man, but absolutely no food? All of his cupboards, if not full of jars containing some grotesque piece of a magical creature, contained a number of herbs or empty potion phials. One or two were completely empty, and one had a few cans of tuna which Draco wouldn't dare touch – they would serve as a last resource if he found nothing else. And although he knew that there had to be some food somewhere in the house, Draco had no idea how he would even manage to cook it if he were to feed himself.

Once, when he was eight years old he had attempted to learn something about cooking from the house elves. Despite the fact that they all protested his attempts, after a while they had allowed him to enter the kitchen and try to help out with making cookies. It hadn't lasted longer than a few minutes before his father charged into the room followed by his mother. A lecture had followed on what a Malfoy could do and what he couldn't do – cooking, his father had said with a sneer, was not fit for him when he had house elves.

In the icebox Draco found only a couple of bottles. Cheap wine resided in one of them, and in the other he found – without much surprise at this point – some sort of potion.

Draco put both bottles back and gave an audible groan when his stomach growled for what could have been the tenth time in the last twenty minutes. That's what he got, he realized, for fighting with his mother. No food.

Although he had stayed in Snape's home the night Snape left, he had gone back to Malfoy Manor after being bored senseless once he had finished coloring all of Snape's ceilings – there was so much that could be done within a house that seemed to hold false perceptions of Snape's life.

When he and his mother had gotten into an argument over breakfast, Draco had gone directly to Spinner's End hoping that Snape was back from dealing with Potter, but Snape hadn't been. And although he had found something about the peaceful quietness of the house that had led him to deciding to remain there, it had been ruined by his need for food.

Snape always had food when he was over, so it was obvious that he got it from somewhere. Draco just didn't know where. He hadn't seen Snape taking food with him when he left although the thought had crossed his mind that those empty cupboards had once held food and that now there was nothing.

Draco sighed. Maybe he would go out to muggle London and find a restaurant where he could eat. Snape was bound to have some Polijuice Potion – in fact, it was more probable that he had that potion than that he had food as far as Draco was concerned.

Of course, he wouldn't risk going into the wizarding world even with Polijuice Potion unless he wanted to enter Knockturn Alley and that wasn't exactly somewhere he was longing to go. He would have to do with muggle London and hope that nothing went wrong. He was glad, for the first time, that Snape had made him exchange some of his gold to the muggle currency. He had found the paper money all too strange, but now he was glad to have it.

He scrambled out of the kitchen with a last glare shot at the cupboards and went out into the living room. He crossed the room and climbed the stairs two at a time, trying hard to ignore his aching stomach.

Draco frowned at his reflection some ten minutes later. Without his robes he felt naked, but he knew better than to apparate into a muggle street or even alley, while wearing robes. It didn't help that he hadn't been able to find Polijuice Potion.

With a final wrinkling of his nose at the Draco in the mirror, he checked to see that he had the money in his pocket, and apparated to the alley right next to the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

He could hear the foreign noises that greeted him from the London streets. He was only slightly familiar with muggle London, but it was enough so, that he knew what he could do and what he couldn't do. His stomach growled again, and Draco, making sure that his wand was up his sleeve and wouldn't fall out, stepped out of the dark alley he had apparated to, and began his search for food.

Draco had only walked a couple of blocks away from Diagon Alley, with his eyes darting from one store to the next, trying hard to not be distracted by the strange devises that seemed to be a part of nearly every window display he passed, and then he got a whiff of it. It was a wonderful smell, and although Draco couldn't quite place what it could possibly be, he allowed his nose to lead him into one of the shops which turned out to be a small restaurant.

He stood right outside for a few minutes, looking in through the large window. The place looked dirty – plastic tables with not even a table cloth to make the place look even the tiniest bit more civilized, littered the place, all packed close together. As far as Draco could tell there were no waitresses or waiters, and except for the man behind the counter, there was no form of management.

A few teenagers that Draco thought to be maybe a year younger than him were seated closest to the door and Draco could see they were all eating what appeared to be triangular pieces of very thin bread with melted cheese and round red circles that seemed almost pooled in oil.

But his stomach growled when the smell of this strange muggle food encompassed him yet again when a couple exited this place that he had caught acting like a restaurant. He stepped quickly and purposely towards the door, and allowed himself within. The delicious aroma was even more palpable and Draco found himself almost rushing to the counter.

"Hello. How may I help you," the man behind the counter smiled at Draco in a friendly way.

Draco frowned in thought. "Could I possible see a menu," he said, although the round things sitting behind glass next to the cash register were making his stomach ache in pain.

"Everything is up there," he pointed above the counter and Draco saw for the first time that a list of what this place sold and prices were clearly visible. It didn't help, of course, that he had no idea what anything meant.

After a few minutes the man behind the counter sighed, and Draco looked at him and away from the list of food above him.

"I guess you might as well give me one of those," Draco said, pointing towards the round things he had seen the teenagers eating.

"A slice?"

Draco imagined that a slice consisted of one of the triangular pieces, and wondered if that would be enough.

"Or would you like whole pie?"

Draco wondered at this man calling it a pie. This looked nothing like pie. He just about opened his mouth to tell him so, when he remembered that it was better to keep things civil and friendly when dealing with muggles.

"Yes, a whole pie," Draco said instead.

"Any toppings or just plain?"

Draco didn't know how to answer this question. What was a topping? Was it like that round thing that had been on the "pies" of the teenagers he had seen when he entered the place?

Someone laughed behind him. "You've never had pizza before, have you, blondie?" She asked.

Draco turned to look at her. "No," he said plainly.

"I think you'd want to try it with some pepperoni. But to be safe in case you don't like it take half of it just plain. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"Thanks," Draco said. "I guess I'll follow her advice, then," he said to the man behind the counter who nodded.

"Alright. I'll call you over when it's ready."

Draco nodded and looked around. What was he supposed to do until then? He choose a chair from one of the tables and sat down, making sure that it was not dirty.

Behind him he heard the girl that had helped him, ordering something, and then she turned towards him.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" She asked.

"Go ahead," Draco said.

She nodded and sunk into a chair. "So how come you've never had pizza before?" She asked.

"Is that what it's called?" Draco asked. "I wasn't sure."

She laughed. "What's your name, anyway? I'm Amy."

"Draco."

"Cool name. It's like the constellation right?"

Draco nodded.

They fell into silence, and then she suddenly broke it. "You didn't answer my question."

Draco knew he couldn't exactly tell her that he was a wizard and whatever this pizza thing was, in the wizarding world there was no such thing. Instead he settled for telling her something that was partly true.

"I've never really eaten outside of my house. My family is rich, I guess, and we have servants that do all the cooking. I nearly always eat there unless I'm at school and we don't exactly have anything like this there. The few times I have eaten outside of my home or school I've spent at restaurants were they would obviously not serve something like this."

Amy frowned at him before smiling again. "My, but you are a puzzle," she said.

Draco smiled back. He heard the man behind the counter say something and turned. He motioned or him to go towards him. On the counter sat a box with the word Pizza written across from it. Draco looked down at it mesmerized and waited for the man to tell him how much it was, but he motioned to the numbers on a little box almost floating from the cash register. He handed the man a couple of bills and hoped that he was right and Snape's lesson on muggle currency had come to be useful, smiled when he received his change back, and gave Amy a little wave before leaving the restaurant with the box held securely in his arms. It would be best, he had decided, to head back to Spinner's End to start experimenting with this muggle food.

The box was warm and the smell of the pizza wafted towards his nose as he looked for an alley from where he could apparate. He couldn't wait until he tasted the first bite and hoped that it was as good as its aroma declared it to be.

-

-

-

"Malfoy knows about them too, then," Harry said. His eyes rested on the cup as he spoke while he turned the page on an ancient looking book which he held carefully in his hands.

Snape looked up from the pieces of parchment he was flipping through, looking for the right counter curse to the spell that had been put on Hermione and that he had created nearly eighteen years earlier. "Only that they're important," he said. "He has no idea exactly what they are."

Harry pursed his lips – it was something that made him look so much like his father, that Snape stared at him for a long moment and then began to chuckle.

Harry, startled at the odd sound coming from Snape, looked up with his eyes wide. "What?" he asked.

"Pursing your lips," Snape explained, "adds to your likeness to me."

Harry found himself grinning. "Many things," he said at last, "make our kinship obvious."

Snape rolled his eyes. A few minutes passed in silence with Harry scanning pages of his book, and then Snape broke the silence. "I can't seem to find it," he said, then.

"Nothing on the spell whatsoever?" Harry asked. If there was nothing, what would happen to Hermione? She couldn't stay in that vegetable state forever.

"That does not mean I will not be able to help Miss Granger – I am almost positive it will be in my rooms at Hogwarts," Snape said.

"It took me a while to figure out that you must have written it down," Harry said. "I mean, I know you do, but I was so worried about her I didn't think. We researched for so long – Faye probably still is now."

"Miss. Granger will be alright, Harry," Snape said. "Somehow we will break that spell even if we have to create one to do so."

Harry smiled. "We'll have to go back to Hogwarts regardless," Harry said. "Professor McGonagall might be persuaded to allow you in as long as we can tell her exactly what happened."

Snape didn't answer. He set his pieces of parchment down and picked up the small folded note from R.A.B. from where it sat between the fake Horcrux and Slytherin's cup.

The locket that he and Dumbledore had believed to be one of his Horcruxes had been in his pocket since the night he discovered it was a fake. He had not trusted himself to let someone else find it and had wanted to keep it on his person, always.

"Do you have any idea who he might be?" Harry asked. He was looking down at his book again, but a second later looked up at Snape.

Snape unfolded the note in his hands and scanned the words on it, thoughtfully as if this were his first time looking it rather than his fifth. "I thought it might be a Death Eater," he said at last.

"A Death Eater?" Harry asked. "But, if Voldemort trusted him enough with this information then he – or I guess she – should have been trustworthy in Voldemort's eyes."

Snape shook his head. "You are forgetting, Harry, that not just anyone could have gotten this information. I was his Death Eater and he never once mentioned this, even to Lucius. The only reason he could have told someone is if he truly needed some sort of magical aid that he himself could not procure or if he was in need of some one else to help him with them. And even then he must have given a very limited amount of information. Only a Death Eater could have managed to obtain this information."

"I guess that makes sense," Harry said. "But who could have done it?"

"And that is the source of our problem," Snape said. "Voldemort never exactly kept a list of his followers and he rarely allowed us all to know who we were. The masks played a big part in this. He kept many different groups separate. Sometimes two brothers did not realize even that they were part of the Death Eaters until a random meeting when their paths crossed. It would be hard."

Harry sighed in a defeated way.

Snape gave him a smile. "What we can do, however, is get some sense as to the magical signature on the note and perhaps even the locket."

"I thought you couldn't figure out who had cast a spell from a magical signature."

"You can't," Snape said. "But I suspect that our friend had some magical help."

"Magical help?" Harry asked. "Like not from a witch or wizard. Like a house elf?" And then everything dawned on him.

"Precisely. From the way that you described all of this to me, it was obvious to me that he or she must have had some help with the potion to keep his or her mind. The only magical creature that might of its own free will do this would be a house elf and their magic is so different that with few spells and a potion as long as you have a magical signature you will be able to tell which house elf it is."

Harry gapped at him. "Is it just that easy?" He asked. "Isn't there the same problem with house elves as there is with witches and wizards concerning this?"

"Not if we can get certain files from the ministry that register every house-elf and the extent of their powers," Snape said, and Harry saw the gleam in his eyes that told him that Snape was going to enjoy doing some snooping in the newly founded Ministry of Magic.

Harry smiled slightly. He looked down at his book and scanned over the page, reading the bold headlines. The book that Snape had handed him that morning over breakfast concerned wandless magic which Harry had a bigger grasp on now, but which still eluded him at times. The book breeched many subjects that he had wanted to learn more about, and Harry was making sure that it had everything he wanted. It would have been easier had there been a table of contents or he had been allowed to draw one up with magic but Snape had forbidden any use of magic on his book.

"Draco could do it," Snape said.

"Do what?"

"Read the magical signature," Snape said.

"And what, tell him exactly why we need it for? The less people involved the better. Even with his new found ability with occlumency he isn't as reliable as you might want him to be."

Harry thought that Snape looked as if he wanted to something to contradict Harry. But he stopped himself. A year ago, Harry knew, Snape wouldn't have managed that.

"I know you don't like him," Snape said. "He tried to throw the cruciatus at you in a fit of anger. However, Draco has gone through a lot in the past few months and he has recognized what was wrong with what he was doing. He is changing slowly into something resembling his own father."

"And that's a good thing?" Harry asked with a laugh, trying to bring humor back into the situation.

Snape sighed. "Harry, sometimes you have to give people chances."

"I wonder at how you can say that after your treatment of Sirius two years ago."

"Ah. Well. Black was a special case."

Harry snorted. "Well. Malfoy is a special case as well." It didn't matter that his mother was someone that he admired, or that his father had become something little less than a friend, but more than acquaintance.

"I do not want you to make the same mistakes I did in picking fights over childhood enemies. We are at war now and it would be best to focus on that and the fact that Draco is the only one that could possibly read this magical signature. It is a particular gift of his."

Harry knew that his attitude was almost at the point of being that of a petulant child, but that didn't exactly matter to him as much as his not wanting to see Draco Malfoy and working with him. It was perhaps something to do with what he had seen in the infirmary the day after he and Draco had fought in the bathroom. He didn't want to see Snape and Draco together and notice some sort of bond between them that he could not compete with.

-

-

-

It was amazing.

Pizza had become his favorite food in the world in under twenty minutes, because he was sure that was how long it had taken him to devour the entire pie. The multitudes of flavor exploding within his mouth had been fantastically enchanting – the sauce and the cheese, and the pepperoni. The pepperoni! It had left a slight burning in his mouth that he had cherished and wanted much more of. And for a moment he had imagined running out of Spinner's End back to that restaurant and retrieving more of this delectable meal he had eaten.

At first, he had attempted to eat like a civilized person, with a fork and a knife, but after a moment, it had dawned on him that there must have been a reason for the people he had seen in the restaurant eating with their hands, and so he had attempted it. And then he had begun to stuff the pizza into his mouth when he discovered the amazing taste that clearly rivaled the aroma that had wafted up to his nose the entire way to Spinner's End.

Draco hadn't cared that it was oily and that at times it was messy. He had even gotten a stain on his shirt from it, but that hadn't mattered to him as long as he was sated by this triangular delight that sat in his wands, warm and edible.

Draco sat back in his armchair and ignored the empty, grease stained pizza box. He would have to get rid of it eventually, but for the moment he could just sit there and do nothing. He thought he deserved it after having to go out to the muggle world, even if that had led to his new favorite food.

He stretched out his legs and put them up on the coffee table, something that Snape would never have allowed him to do. But Snape wasn't there and Draco had decided that anything went by this point – after all, this wasn't exactly Snape's real house, and he was still itching to see Snape's other house. It was too bad he didn't know where it was or he would have just randomly showed up there. With Snape reunited with his son – and he assumed that was going well – Snape might not be as angry at him as he might have been otherwise although Draco knew his going anywhere near them would cause some sort of scene from Potter. It was the sort of thing that he would do.

Draco leaned back, and stared up at the ceiling. This one he had chosen to do in a number of different colors. It looked almost tie-dyed, but it had a certain element to it that didn't make it quite so, and that was the fact that Draco had made a pattern appear upon the ceiling that to some would not be quite as visible as it would be to others.

Draco had never expected to get something out of painting or drawing, but he had noticed, after the potion that Snape had made him drink had made him realize exactly who he was – although he had not reached the stage of self-actualization – that it was something he both enjoyed doing, and he was particularly good at.

It had surprised him greatly, what the potion had done to him. It had made him realize so much about himself that he had never once before considered, and it had also allowed him to see the people around him differently. Particularly his father.

Lucius Malfoy had never been great father. He had given Draco everything he wanted, yes, but that had not ever been enough, and yet within his memories he saw a version of his father that he had never seen before. The Lucius in his memories seemed to care greatly for him and also seemed to be hiding some sort of secret that had been bothering Draco since he had seen it.

Draco knew that it was a little selfish of him to hope that Snape could help him get his father back when a war was going on around him. But Draco didn't think he could function if he didn't get to talk to his father any time soon and he didn't know his father's secret, which he had garnered from his memories as something that highly concerned him.


	17. Kreacher

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much guys for all the reviews, you guys are great. I hope you guys all like this chapter.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Seventeen  
_**

_Kreacher  
_

_September 17, 1998_

He wasn't exactly happy about how everything was turning out, but for the moment he would say nothing. If this lead to Hermione being better and their getting another Horcrux, then he would learn to deal with it.

Harry stepped out of his bathroom with a sigh. He desperately needed to get a haircut and soon – preferably before they went to Hogwarts or it would be obvious to anyone looking closely that he and Snape were somehow related.

Harry made his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen for breakfast. Today would be an interesting day – he could just feel it.

"Good Morning," Harry muttered to Snape, who nodded at him once over the Daily Prophet before turning back to whatever it was he was reading.

"Ah," Snape said. "I guess we have encountered a few problems. Problems for your dear friends, anyway."

Harry who had been pouring himself a cup of tea, did a good impression of Snape by raising an eyebrow in question.

"You shouldn't do that," Snape said, and then continued with, "It appears that the Ministry has managed to come to a decision on those laws that that Umbrige woman has been trying to get passed for the past year."

"That doesn't sound good," Harry said. He waved his hand over his tea cup and watched as his spoon began to dissolve the sugar he had just added. "What does it entail exactly?"

"Hmm, let's see," Snape said, his eyes scanning over the Daily Prophet. "As announced this morning, all magical creatures are subject to submitting their names, addresses, and any other information that the ministry must be aware of before the end of the month, or face a sentence in Azkaban. Further action will be taken by the Ministry if it is found out that creatures such as werewolves have not come into the Ministry after this warning. Anyone associated with such creatures is also subject to informing the Ministry of their whereabouts."

Harry groaned. "Is that all?" He asked.

Snape shook his head. "This is mostly focused on werewolves, I must say, and I'm afraid that with Lupin known to be publicly involved at Hogwarts this will cause more problems than we need."

"It will alienate certain groups and lead most of them to Voldemort even though he is the cause of this," Harry said. "Anything else we should worry about?"

"The pure-blood protection act," Snape said. "Not passed yet, but with the way things are going, we must prepare for this."

Harry nodded and brought his cup of tea to his mouth thoughtfully. "Umbridge has always been prejudiced," he said. "Hermione would have seen this coming. She would have known what to do about it, too."

"We are going to Hogwarts tomorrow, Harry," Snape said.

"I know," Harry said. "She's my best friend and seeing her in that state – I didn't like it, and I just want to be completely sure that she will be okay."

Snape didn't say anything in response and Harry was glad for it, not thinking that Snape could possibly have anything to say that would make this better. Harry grabbed a piece of toast and bit into it. If anything, he thought, he could enjoy his breakfast before everything began – Draco Malfoy was coming over later to read the magical signature and would most likely be staying the night. Snape had convinced Harry that Draco also had to come along to Hogwarts for a few books and that he would most likely be helpful if they had to create a spell from scratch.

Harry had been so deep in his thoughts as he ate his piece of toast that he did not hear the tapping on the window, though Snape did. Hedwig flew to his shoulder, and startled Harry when she settled herself down on him.

"Hedwig! I haven't seen you in a while, girl, but you look alright. What do you have here?" He took the letter that she had in her beak and set it down next to his cup of tea, all the while grabbing some bacon to give to his owl.

He had left Hedwig at Hogwarts at the end of the year, knowing that he wouldn't be in a position to care for her and wouldn't be in much need of her anyway. Harry stroked her head with one finger, and she hooted in response. Harry had missed his owl. Hedwig finished the bacon that Harry had been feeding her pieces of and hooted pleasantly before taking off from his shoulder and out the window to the nearest tree, where she settled herself down and promptly went to sleep.

Harry watched her for a few seconds, making sure that would be alright, and then turned to the letter. The envelope was not addressed to anyone, but Harry saw that as a precaution for it to be intercepted.

He took out the letter, unfolded it, and began to read.

_Dear Harry,_

_I figured she'd be able to find you. I was sending a letter to my mum – checking in and all that – when I noticed Hedwig. I've been trying to think of a way to contact you since hearing something interesting from a certain ghost. Don't worry about this letter having been read by someone else. If they did manage to stop Hedwig – something improbable – they wouldn't have been able to have held on to it for long. A few spells the twins developed for the Order. Anyway, it's safe. _

_When Myrtle first said it, I didn't think I should believe her. I mean, you're my best friend. You would have told me. You've always told me everything so, I figured maybe she was just trying to make it out as if she knew something about you that I didn't. I had mentioned that you weren't in school and she said that not only were you not in school, but that neither was your FATHER! _

_Your bloody father! So of course I thought, she's got to be kidding, I mean, come on! Your father died years and years ago and he couldn't just suddenly be brought back from the dead. It's inconceivable. And then, I thought about how different you had acted last year – and that box that came for you on your birthday that you were so scared of opening. Your leaving for "training" during the summer, and not being on the train, and then spending all your time away from Gryffindor tower, the apprenticeship with Lupin. Everything. And I guess I pieced it all together. _

_I can't believe you didn't tell me. Did you tell Hermione? I don't think you did, but I feel betrayed. Who else knew? Did Dumbledore? What about other Order members. Did James even know that your mother went behind his back and slept with one of his best friends? I guess you're wearing a glamour now to hide how much you look like him. You couldn't hide how tame your hair became or the fact that you didn't need glasses, but I guess you had to hide your hair color. It's looking darker now, all of a sudden. Did you overdo the charm? I can't believe Hermione didn't see through it. And does Tonks know? _

_She's pregnant, you know, Tonks. That's why she's teaching this year. Is he with you now, not here with his wife while she has his child in her belly? Is that who you took with you – your father, on whatever adventure he went off on now?_

_Harry Lupin, is it, now? I can't believe you didn't tell me. _

_And I guess you don't even care about Hermione, leaving her in that state while you're off running around doing nothing. Faye and even bloody Lucius Malfoy are looking for some cure and yet all you do is go off without a word to anyone. Maybe coming back to Hogwarts might have helped you some. The Order is here, after all, actually doing something for the cause. _

_I won't tell anyone if that's what you're worried about. I will act as your best friend and I will keep this secret. Maybe you have a reason for it. Anyway, I do miss you. Not having you here is strange. And seeing Ginny mooning over you is driving me insane. I know you don't like her, but I absolutely hate seeing her like this – pining away for you and thinking that she will end up with you in the end. She's hopeless. _

_Anyway, nothing big is going on around here, just you and your father not here and of course, Dumbledore's absence. I hope I get to see you soon and really I'm not really too mad over you not telling me. It must have been a real shock, finding something like that out. At least it wasn't Snape or something! And Lupin isn't that bad. I guess you're getting a little brother or sister now, you've got to be looking forward to that. Tonks is almost positive it will be a boy. _

_I guess that's all for now. I know I shouldn't write you again just in case, and you don't know the spell to send me back a letter, so don't bother. Not even to explain. I think I understand and we shouldn't risk it just for this. Be careful with everything. Lavender says to tell you good luck from her, so good luck, not just from her but the both of us. _

_I never realized it would feel like this, falling in love. Liking someone for everything she is – faults and all and having someone look at you like you're the only one in the world. It's great._

_Good luck again._

_ I will remain always, your friend, _

_Ron Weasley_

Harry knew his mouth must have been open and his shock evident. Ron knew the truth. Or, well, he knew a truth. Harry could have laughed at Ron thinking that Remus was his father, but Ron was very close to the truth, and had Hermione been the one to hear that from Myrtle she would have known at once. In fact, Harry had reason to suspect that by this point, just from looking at him, she would know. In fact, Harry knew it would all come out when she was well again, but that was something that Harry was willing to allow. It had been a little more than a year after all and Harry had kept the secret from them for long.

"And what does that letter contain that has rendered you speechless. Surely it mustn't be that drastic," his father drawled. He had folded the Daily Prophet and put it aside, his focus now on the food in front of him and Harry.

"Ron knows," Harry said.

"That you are my son?" Snape asked. "I guess your friends must find out sometime."

"No, not that. He knows that James wasn't my father. He thinks it is Remus Lupin who is my father."

Snape snorted. "Ah, that is rather amusing. Can we be sure that this letter has not been read by anyone?"

"The Weasley Twins have devised a spell for this from what Ron tells me," Harry said. He set the letter aside, looked once at Hedwig still sleeping on the tree, and returned to his meal. "The question is, should I tell him the truth. Hermione will know the moment she sees me. Hermione's observational skills will not work for our favor this time. I think if Draco Malfoy can know, then they will know, at least about this."

Snape did not respond, as if he were thinking about what to say. When he finally spoke he was short and concise about it. "If this can be kept quiet then yes, tell them. Remember, Harry, that if this secret reaches Voldemort, I will not just be punished."

"I know that!" Harry exclaimed. "Why did I keep it from them for so long, then, if I didn't know that! All that I am saying is that Ron already knows something, and despite his getting it wrong if Hermione ever sees the two of us together, well, we can expect her to get it within seconds. Yes, having them know everything is precarious for the cause, but what would happen if I didn't tell them and they found out from someone else, or overheard it, or something and instead of keeping it quiet they went out and practically shouted it out from the rooftops? What, then?"

Harry knew that Snape was considering what he was saying, the thoughtful look that crossed his face told him that, but Harry still wasn't sure if he was even comfortable with telling his friends that none other than Severus Snape was his father. Ron had put it in his letter in jest, but how would he react when he heard that Snape was Harry's father?

Hermione would be a little more reasonable, he hoped, but she still had a temper and he had hidden something from her.

Maybe he shouldn't bother with predicting their reactions and instead he should deal with the present and preparing himself to see Draco later on in the afternoon.

-

-

-

Harry heard the door open from his room and he knew that Snape was back and Draco Malfoy was with him. Ignoring that he had heard anything at all, Harry put all his attention in the book Snape had given him. The theory that this book had was so well detailed, that Harry thought he could probably begin to practice his wandless magic again although he would have to do it with Snape in the room – he'd made him promise just in case and Harry knew he had a point.

His magic had gotten so much stronger that he was afraid of what could happen if it went haywire again. He had killed a man because of it and that wouldn't happen again.

Harry heard them down in the first floor. Malfoy was asking about the wood paneling. After a few minutes Harry heard them coming up the stairs.

"This is my office," Harry heard Snape say.

"Ah. Now this is more like it," Malfoy responded. "The other one just couldn't pass for it."

Harry heard the door to Snape's office close and then their voices were cut off from him and he could hear nothing else. Harry wondered what they could be talking about, but shook his head and returned to his reading. He had become so absorbed in it, that he did not hear the knock on his door.

Snape opened the door and Harry nearly jumped when he saw him there.

"I have returned," Snape said. "He's in my office. I have told him to behave and while of course we can't be too sure of his not losing his head, I do hope you know that I expect better from you."

Harry closed his book and gently put it aside. "I am not a child that you need to remind how to behave."

Snape smiled. "I know that," he said. "But you are my son and you have my temper. Don't let anything he has to say bother you. Also, do not mention Lucius in front of him. He is unaware of where his father is and it would be best to keep it that way."

For a moment Harry wanted to argue that Malfoy should know where his father was, and then he remembered this was Malfoy they were talking about, and he gave Snape a short nod. He remembered what Faye had told him and he smiled slightly to himself. He knew something about Draco that not even Draco himself was aware of, and while he would not throw that in his face – for the sake of Faye mostly – he would repeat that in his head while sitting in Snape's office.

"Have you told him why he's here?"

"No. I though you should be there," Snape said.

Harry nodded and stood up. He approached Snape at the door, who was smiling at him. "I am proud of you," Snape said. "At your age I would not have allowed anyone to talk me into sitting in a room civilly with Sirius Black."

Harry smiled back.

When he entered Snape's office a few seconds later with Snape behind him, Harry didn't know what he could expect from Draco Malfoy, but he was prepared for anything.

"Malfoy," Harry said.

"Potter," Malfoy said and then frowned. "Or Snape? Is it Snape, now?"

Harry didn't have to answer that, although he admitted to himself that it had been the perfect thing for Malfoy to say if he wanted this meeting to go well.

"He has not taken my name," Snape said. "We decided it would be best for him to keep James' last name – after all Harry Potter is the boy-who-lived."

Malfoy nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

Harry chose that moment to sit down and chose the chair next to Draco to show that he wasn't too opposed to this meeting. Snape gave him a subtle approving glance as he walked around the desk to sit down.

"So," Malfoy said. "What exactly did you need me for?"

"To read the magical signature in two objects," Snape answered. He was looking through the first drawer on the left hand side of his desk.

"Other side," Harry said. "The note is inside the locket."

Snape turned to the drawer on his right and withdrew the locket.

"Is that like the cup?" Draco asked.

"It has nothing to do with the cup," Snape said. "What we need is for you to tell us the exact magical signature on the locket and the note inside it."

Malfoy nodded. "Shouldn't be that hard," he said. "I've been practicing and I think I've gotten a whole lot better."

The way that Malfoy said it, made Harry think that he was back to the self-importance that Harry had hated most about him. But Malfoy had changed. He had noticed it almost at once. He had ceased to be so arrogant, and he sat there in Snape's office like someone that did not think themselves better than everyone else in the room.

Snape took out the note and set it aside, passing the locket to Draco. He grasped it in front of him, looking at it closely, and then he gasped. Harry wondered exactly how Malfoy's ability worked and how he had come to have it.

"He'll be in that sort of state for a few minutes," Snape said. "It was he who pin pointed where the cup was with this ability. It was then that we realized he had it. Purebloods are trained to recognize magic – and for the most part witches and wizards can do that without training, but he can detect much more than that."

"I think Dumbledore could do that," Harry said.

"Hmm. Yes. Useful when searching for them," Snape said.

Harry frowned at that. "It doesn't mean that we'll need his help."

Snape smiled. "As civil as you act, you still do not like him."

"That's right," Harry said.

-

-

-

It was house-elf magic. He knew that much, and he almost had a good idea to what family the house-elf belonged to, although he couldn't see that as clearly as he would have wanted. He did know the exact magical signature, but he was so close to getting the family this house-elf worked for. But it was hazy. As if…as if the house-elf had changed families since using this spell on the locket.

Draco felt farther. Finding the old master would be harder than the new one, but getting the new one wouldn't be a bad way to start. He wondered why knowing this was so important to Potter and Snape, but he decided he wasn't going to push for answers. He knew they weren't telling him everything about the cup and they wouldn't be telling him everything about this either.

He could see a crest now – it wasn't one he recognized. It was a mixture of crests, three different ones to be exact. Part of it he did know, he realized. It was part of the Black crest, but the other two thirds escaped him. But as long as he could draw it out for Snape and Potter, it would be something.

He let go of the magic pulsing around him. House-elf magic felt all too entirely different from that of a fellow witch and wizard. It was wild but constrained, and it wasn't as desirable to Draco as say Harry Potter's magic was next to him – and oh, his magic was strong. It sang to him and teased him.

He came back to himself and pushed the thoughts of Harry Potter's magic away.

"I have a crest for the family this house-elf belongs to. I can't seem to recognize it," Draco said.

Snape pushed a piece of parchment towards him and a quill. Draco made a quick sketch on it, with all the detail that he remembered.

"I didn't know you could draw," Potter said. "That's really good."

"You don't know a lot about me," Draco retorted. But it was also true, Draco knew, that he did not know a lot about Potter. "Thanks," he added as an afterthought as he finished the drawing.

Snape pulled the parchment towards him. "That is my crest," he said, pointing to one part of it.

"And the other is the Black family crest," Draco said.

"It's familiar to me," Snape said. "I have seen it before. Not this mixture, but the third one." He put it down flat on the desk.

Potter stood up to get a closer look, but Draco wondered at what he could contribute to this. He didn't know anything about family crests. And then Potter gasped. "It's Kreacher!" He exclaimed.

"Kreacher?" Snape asked. "Are you positive?"

"Of course," Potter said. "Keacher!" He called out.

A house-elf appeared in front of them, not looking at all happy about having been called away, and Draco thought he had seen him before. He was old – older than any house-elf that Draco had ever seen – and wore clothes.

"What can Kreacher do for master?" The House-elf asked.

"I need you to tell me if you recognize this," Potter said, and took the locket, holding it in front of the elf.

Kreached whimpered and shook his head. "Kreacher knows, sir. Oh, my poor Master!"

"Your Master, who was he?" Potter asked.

"I can't – Kreacher promised not to say."

Harry frowned at him, and then looked at Snape. "That means he's still alive and must be of the Black family," Harry said. "I'm surprised that he even listens to me if this is the case. It couldn't have been Sirius, I'm sure of that."

"But it could have been his brother," Snape said thoughtfully.

"Yes," Harry said. "He was a Death Eater – died, or so Sirius said after realizing that he had made a mistake becoming one of them. Sirius said –" Harry thought back to the day in Grimmauld Place two years previous. He and Sirius had been by the tapestry and they had been talking about his family. "He said that Regulus ran, and that eventually he was killed although he didn't think that Voldemort killed him because Regulus must not have been important."

And then another thought crossed him. Regulus had also been the one that told Voldemort about Faye and Lucius. So he must have been a little more important than Sirius said he was. But then, when did he switch sides?

"Regulus Black," Harry said to the elf. "Was he your master?"

Kreacher nodded.

"Is he alive?"

Kreacher didn't answer. He instead ran into the wall and attempted to do it again, but Harry grabbed him by the collar.

Draco didn't know what to think about the entire thing. He was still wondering about the final part of the crest and why Potter had figured it out within moments when he hadn't gone through the training on this that Draco had as a child.

"I remember Regulus," Snape said suddenly. "He was a year or so below me at Hogwarts. His true colors were never rightly determined by everything he did. Regulus always had his own motives for the things he did. I wouldn't be surprised if he were alive somewhere in hiding."

Harry thought that was entirely possible. After all, he had a good idea that he had been the one holding Faye for Voldemort, or perhaps not even for Voldemort, but for his own reasons. Harry wondered for a moment if it was a good thing, then, that he had taken one of Voldemort's Horcruxes.


	18. A Solution Found

**Author's Note: **This week has been a busy one. I'm making a spoof of Rent with my friends (like actually acting it out and filming it) as a gift for another of our friends and the script writing has been beyond hard. And of course I had to go see the 6th movie. I went yesterday night and I have to say I really liked it. So if you haven't seen it yet, you should. The humor is probably the best part...and while there are a few scenes that could have been done better...there are so many others that were done so well that it's completely worth watching. I particularly enjoyed the scene when Harry takes the felix felicis and I know a lot of people agreed.

Anyway, I did want to make a quick note here on Regulus, just so that everyone is clear on it. Last chapter does not mean that Regulus is alive. It's just a possibility. So Harry has no idea if Regulus is alive or not. Sirius was sure that his brother was dead...In fact, even I don't know if Regulus is alive yet.

Thanks for all the reviews, guys and enjoy the chapter. I really quite liked this one because it has been a long time coming...Enjoy!

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Eighteen  
_**

_A Solution Found  
_

_September 18, 1998_

Harry went on ahead of them, stepping into the fireplace and shouting his destination – the Headmistress' office. When he stepped out into the office that had belonged to Dumbledore, he was surprised at the pang that hit him despite the fact that he had been there before – but then the office had still been so much Dumbledore's that he hadn't thought about the fact that at some point it would change and become McGonagall's in most ways and forms. Few things remained the same, but not enough for Harry to still think of it as Dumbledore's.

"Good morning, Professor," Harry said.

"Ah, Harry," Professor McGonagall said with a smile. "It's good to see you again. It is safe to assume the other two will arrive soon?" Her voice took a tone of disapproval.

Despite the fact that Harry had explained everything to her about Snape, it appeared that Minerva McGonagall was still not ready to forgive the man that had killed Albus Dumbledore. Harry had told her that he was dying, but without being able to tell her about the Horcruxes, she hadn't taken that to heart. As to Draco, him she disapproved more of. He had been a student who had not only taken the Dark Mark, but attempted to kill the Headmaster. In her book, neither of them should be allowed back in the school or even near Harry, but then again she too was unaware of Harry's parentage, thankfully due to a glamour that had made the more noticeable Snape like qualities in him become hidden.

"Yes," Harry said.

She nodded. "They cannot be seen and neither should you, I think," McGonagall said. "As asked, I did contact Faye and she will be coming along to help. I hope, Harry, that you know what you are doing with these two Slytherins and that everything goes well. I do wish to see Miss Granger awake."

Harry smiled. "I do too, Professor. It is my greatest wish."

The fire turned green and Snape stepped out of it. He gave McGonagall a bow that Harry thought he could never pull off without falling face first to the ground.

McGonagall harrumphed in disapproval, but said nothing, her lips in a tight line. Harry thought that being Headmistress had done her well in spite of it coming with Dumbledore's death.

An awkward silence befell them, and then the fire turned green again and Harry expected to see Draco coming out of the fire, but instead Faye came out with a brilliant smile splayed over her face.

"Harry!" She said and rushed to his side. She took his face in her hands, tipping it upwards. Although Harry had grown greatly in height she was still a few inches taller than him.

"Well. You look alright!" She exclaimed. "Ah, but I have missed you. It's not the same without you, Grimmauld Place."

Draco stepped out of the fire before she continued talking, and she gasped upon seeing him and looked down at Harry with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Why?" She asked.

Harry smiled. "I thought—" Harry cleared his throat.

"Let me see how it came to be," She whispered.

"But…"

Faye smiled and reached to touch his temples, her gaze locked on his. "I – thank you. You could have warned me, you know. And no, I won't tell him. Do you really wish me to think of that when Hermione needs our help? I think not. I told you, you'd understand someday."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Alright," he said.

They turned back to Snape and Draco and Harry saw a strange look come over Snape as he looked at him. Harry thought he had seen jealousy cross his face before it vanished, but shook that thought away. What could he possibly have to be jealous of?

"Who is she?" Draco asked. "I was under the impression that it would only be the three of us."

"We are here for more than your books," Snape said.

"You never elaborated," Draco said with a huff.

"Miss Granger got herself into a spot of trouble during the fight here at Hogwarts. A spell that I invented years and years ago but which does have a counter curse and should be somewhere in my rooms. Faye" – Snape motioned at her – "has been researching for a spell to cure her and is here just in case we need to go through that and is knowledgeable in methods of muggle healing."

For a moment Harry though that Draco looked speechless and then he nodded though still remained silent. He wondered why this was affecting him so, but then Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and gave Harry a pointed look.

"Right," Harry said. "We can't be seen by the students and we should probably get started."

"We can focus on Granger first," Draco said, surprising everyone. "My books can wait."

Snape turned towards the fireplace and threw floo powder in, shouting out, "My rooms!" but the floo didn't take him anywhere.

"What happened?" Snape asked.

"Oh! Right. Sorry," Harry said, and stepped towards the fire, drawing his wand. "I locked your rooms so that no one could enter them back before I left the school for the summer. I thought I would be back to look through things, but at the time I didn't want to and then I never had the time."

Harry waved his wand over the floo and then nodded. "You can go now," he said.

Snape nodded and repeated his previous actions. This time the floo worked and took him away.

"I'm impressed," Faye spoke up from behind him. "I didn't know you could ward things so well."

Harry smiled tightly. "My father taught me how. I helped get the Hogwarts wards under control during the spring. I thought you knew."

Faye shook her head as Draco went into the fire placed and used the floo to get to Snape's rooms. Harry followed and Faye went after him.

-

-

-

Imy glared at Elyssa – a death glare that showed just how much she didn't like the girl in front of her. At one point they could have been friends, but after the incident where she had gotten stuck in the Minister's office with Voldemort in the room, Imy had begun to pay more attention to what Elyssa was – what her family had made her – and Imy had recognized the few subtleties that told Imy how much she had changed from the girl that she had met on the train to Hogwarts a year ago. Elyssa had been changed to believe things so strongly that she no longer hid them from the world. Her prejudice against Imy as a muggleborn was so intense that Imy had decided she had no other way than to go on an all out feud against the other second year. It would surprise Elyssa when everything all came out.

Imy smiled to herself within her mind. Oh, everyone would be surprised. Harry perhaps not so much as the others, but then he took these sort of things well.

"You are just as filthy as your muggle parents. You shouldn't even be here," Elyssa said. Disgust clouded her voice, but there was something there as well that Imy knew well for she had seen it in Elyssa's voice only too often to not recognize it – regret. "My mother told me something's going to happen soon. Something that will rid all of the dirty blood out of the school, I look forward to that day."

Elyssa smirked and turned to walk away, thinking that she had rendered Imy unable to say a thing with such a declaration, but Imy was much more prepared than that. She read the Daily Prophet, or at least got a glance of it when sitting with the Weasleys and she knew well what everyone was so worried about – she knew it well.

"We'll see then, who is laughing," Imy said. "I heard a rumor that your mother couldn't have children and that you are no more pure than your mother's precious lord is."

Imy knew Elyssa wanted to say something more – she had to have to last word, but Imy would not let her this time. She turned and walked away, headed directly into the Great Hall and towards the Gryffindor table where she plunked down next to Ginny Weasley who was staring off into the distance, sighing from time to time. Imy had seen her go into her fantasies so many times that she completely ignored the older girl and instead turned to one of her fellow second years.

"How's the prank coming?" She asked the boy who was said to be after beating Fred and George Weasley for the record of most played pranks within Hogwarts. The twins had beat the Marauders by thirty pranks – a great quarter of them done during their last year at Hogwarts or so Imy had heard.

"It's going to be great!" He said excitedly and began to go into every detail. Imy managed to tune him out while she ate and nodded. This was easier than dealing with the hateful glares that were being shot her way from the Slytherin table from a group of girls that sat together with Elyssa.

"Good luck with all of that stuff then," Imy said.

Wilhelm grinned. "Thanks," he said.

Imy stood up, offering him a smile and giving the Ginny lost in her thoughts sitting next to her a disgusted look. Imogen had been one of the first to notice that Ginny's infatuation with the boy-who-lived was more than just a silly girl's crush. She had deluded herself to think that Harry loved her and that the only reason he wasn't with her was for her sake. Ginny was obsessed with him and Imy had the impression that this wouldn't end well.

"She's not eating again, is she?" Imy heard Ron Weasley ask from behind her.

"No. I'm afraid not."

Ron rolled his eyes. "This has got to stop and soon," he muttered. "She's embarrassing, she is. Doesn't see know that everyone in this bloody school is aware of her silly little crush? And Harry doesn't even like her that way. Somehow we have to get her to see that, otherwise I don't know what will happen."

"Well," Imy said, patting Ron on the arm, seeing as he was too tall for her to reach his shoulder, "good luck with that. I'm not bothering with her."

Ron grinned. "I wish I could ignore her as easily as you do."

Imy nodded. "Oh, I'm going to see Hermione, want to come with me?"

"Sure, why not? I did mean to go later, but now's fine. How do you think finding a way to help her is going?"

Imy shrugged. They walked out of the Great Hall and down the corridor towards the infirmary. Imy spent so much time there during the weekends that it had become almost like a second home to the Gryffindor tower. Hermione looked so pale and dead most of the time and she hated seeing her like that, but seeing her alone lying on that bed was worse.

When they reached the Hospital Wing, however, the double doors that were open at all times unless someone had truly been hurt and Madame Pomfrey needed to concentrate were closed, sealed with a strong spell as they discovered soon enough. But no one had been hurt. Not any of the students anyway. There was the chance it could have been someone else of course, but someone would have seen them come in and as far as she and Ron were concerned there was no one.

Neither of them said what they were both thinking, and that it could have been Harry in there, hurt for doing some stupid in the name of the war. Or Lupin – or one of Ron's brothers. Imy saw the dejected look come over Ron's face.

"Who ever it is, maybe it's not that bad," she said softly.

Ron snorted. "She never closes the doors if it's not that bad," he said.

Imy sighed. "Well, what can we do? There's no way we're getting in there, and besides, we can't just stand here waiting. They won't be telling us anything – you know that."

Ron nodded. He ran a hand through his brilliant red hair. Neither had to say anything – they both knew it would have been useless to do so.

-

-

-

Draco couldn't think. He knew now why she had never responded on their enchanted parchment. She had been unconscious the entire time and maybe she didn't hate him. It had been a strange beginning, theirs and now because of him she was lying in a bed in the hospital – had been lying there for months – slowly dying in a forced state of imprisonment within her mind that was barely keeping her alive.

Snape had been right when he made him drink that potion. He had seen himself for what he was and he had seen what he had done wrong. And one of his biggest mistakes was allowing those Death Eaters in and fighting with Snape over Dumbledore. Had he not allowed them in, Hermione would never have gotten hurt. But as it stood – she was hurt and they had to find the cure in one of Snape's notebooks full of his created spells.

"Nothing in this one," Potter announced and set it aside with the other thirty or so books that had nothing in them.

Snape, Draco had come to realize, was a pack rat and a terrible one at that – not keeping any of his things organized.

Draco finished the books he had been flipping through and put it aside without the annunciation that Potter seemed to favor.

Potter was sitting with the blond woman and they were talking at times in tones so low that Draco could barely hear what they were saying but he had gotten the impression that two of them were very close. If Draco had not known that Potter had been raised by muggles he would have thought that this was the woman that had raised him. More amusing, however, was watching Snape who seemed to stop what he was doing every few minutes to glance over at Faye and Potter. It was during those times that Draco noticed that Snape was jealous. He was jealous of the relationship that Potter had with this Faye woman, and all because Potter was whispering in a corner with her, at times laughing.

Draco rolled his eyes and got back to looking through the books, hoping that this was the book that had the spell they needed. He flipped through pages, using a spell that Snape had found in the first book he had taken, that found certain words within a page so that they didn't have to bother with reading everything. That spell had been a real find and Draco had put it in the back of his mind to use for other things – thinking that it could have been useful for school work.

They continued on in this manner for another hour or so and then Potter looked up with a grin.

"Did you find it, Harry?" Faye was the first to ask.

"No. But I did find something," Potter said.

Draco ignored him after that and turned back to his own book. There were only about six or seven left and the spell should be in one of those books, otherwise they had lost two hours to find nothing.

"Hmm. Yes. That should work," Snape said.

Draco looked up. "What?" He asked.

"Harry, I believe has found a way to help her, although we really should find the spell just in case. I do think his way might work better, however."

Draco rolled his eyes. Of course Potter would be the one to come up with some idea. Then again, he and Faye had been researching this for months so of course he knew more about the spell than Draco but obviously less than its creator.

"I wonder," Faye said suddenly. "Why you never distributed these spells out into the public."

"Just as I never sold any of my original potions, and I won't until Voldemort is gone and he cannot use them against us, although he knows of a few. Like this spell."

Faye nodded.

It took them another twenty minutes to finish the last of the books, and the spell was of course in the last one that was checked. Snape found it and then had to frown over it for at least another fifteen minutes.

"I think it might not work," he said at last, "maybe if I could make some changes to it."

Potter had excused himself from Faye and walked towards his father, bent over his desk, and joined him there.

"Know anything about making spells or altering them?" Faye asked him.

Draco shook his head. It was hard not to like Faye. She was very laid back and at times seemed to just command an entire room without really trying, but there was something in her eyes that was sad and longing for something, and then there were the scars that had been left, clearly seen in her figure that now looked very healthy but was still very much in deep process of healing. Her magic was strong, and there was something that reminded him a lot of Potter in her. Their magic was similar as if they had some sort of extra abilities that Draco had not encountered in anyone else. Draco couldn't think of anything, but there had to be something. She was very beautiful as well, in a classical way. Hers was the beauty of someone that had lost it and then found it again. It was stranger than anything Draco had ever encountered before.

"Well, what about using both. Like what we did last year with the shield charm. If we can mix the two then I could do it, like how I got into your head last year after that meeting. It shouldn't be that hard."

Draco looked towards Potter and Snape. When they were together like that, not noticing the way they moved or the expressions they had on their faces, it was obvious to anyone seeing them that they were related. There was a glamour charm on Potter, but not even that hid the way that when they frowned they did it the same way.

"Yes. That might just work. And with the right potion it would keep her mind intact. The spell that she is under – the second one that is will of course help with this," Snape said, most of it in a mutter.

Potter looked excited now, almost to the point of jumping up and starting some insane dance to express it.

Snape was smiling – grinning almost. "A mixture of that healing foam and perhaps some dreamless sleep," Snape said. There was a glint to his eyes that Draco had never seen in all his years of knowing the man.

"What base though?" Potter asked.

Snape stopped halfway out of the room. "Hmm. Gold cauldron, I think," he said after a while. "That will cancel out certain properties, and then the base for the wolfsbane in that. Yes." He nodded.

It seemed that Potter understood exactly what he was talking about, because he followed him. Draco and Faye exchanged looks and followed. Snape and Potter had gone into an ingredients cupboard and were taking out ingredients and without even speaking they knew what to gather.

"I guess we're watching them brew a potion," Faye said. "Is this going to take long?" She asked.

"Should be just an hour," Snape said as if an hour were not long. "In the meanwhile Draco can find the books he needs in the library."

"I'll come with you," Faye said.

Draco nodded. "Alright," he said.

-

-

-

Harry had not expected them to find a way to do it that quickly, but they had and now he was standing in the middle of his father's private lab helping him with the potion that they would need to help Hermione. His father really was a brilliant man. He had created so many spells – some practical and others not – as well as potions and now they had created a potion together that would work to combat any signs of Hermione going crazy the moment that the spell that Faye had put on her was lifted. If they worked on this potion just a little more and fixed it up to help other mental problems like this one perhaps one day, they could even help Neville's parents.

Harry mentioned this to Snape, who looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, I rather think it might," he said at last.

Snape cut up some dark colored root and put it into the potion with a flourish. Harry watched him with a smile. He had missed making potions with his father – days spent over steaming cauldrons sometimes with little conversation and other times with a lot of it.

"What were you and Faye whispering about, so much?" Snape asked suddenly.

Harry looked up. "Oh, that," Harry said, "Malfoy mostly. I didn't tell her he would be here and she is his mother, you know."

"Ah, yes," Snape said. He said it as if with relief and Harry wondered what he could have possibly thought they were discussing.

"She isn't all that bad," Harry said. "She's the one that convinced me to not kill you when I next saw you like I promised her I would."

Snape snorted. "I wouldn't have let you get away with that," he said.

Harry grinned. "I know. I was just, so angry at you."

Snape nodded and said nothing else. They continued brewing in silence for a few more minutes. It was the kind of silence that Harry enjoyed having with Snape – when they wouldn't say anything at all but everything was alright.

Another few minutes later found them joined again by Faye, Draco, and a stack of books that had been collected from the library.

"How are going to manage to get away with that without Madame Pince not having some sort of heart attack upon discovering a portion of her books missing?"

"We left some books," Faye said with a devious tone.

Harry grinned. He looked between Faye and Draco and found that he could see the beginning of a friendship between them. Faye was that kind of a person. As though as she could be at times, she was also very soft. And this was her son and she would take everything she could from him even if it meant sharing something as small as looking for books in the Hogwarts library.

They finished the potion a few minutes later and left it to simmer for a few more minutes. In the meanwhile, Snape instructed Harry properly on legillimency. Harry had used it only a couple of times. Faye and Lucius had attempted to teach him certain tricks he could use with it, but they hadn't exactly been successful although that, Harry thought, would have to do with his barriers being up most of the time.

Snape, however, knew his mind so well that it was much easier for him to teach Harry the certain technique that he should use on Hermione.

"It helps that you know her," he said. "You are one of her best friends and you know mostly everything about her, and to her mind you are someone that is safe. She'll let you in where she wouldn't me or Faye. It shouldn't take too long, although it might feel long to you. If you begin to get tired you mustn't stop. Draw upon my magic. I will be next to you the entire time, holding your hand just in case."

Harry nodded. He was ready for this.


	19. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

I absolutely hate when an author puts up an author's note as an entire chapter...because that usually means that either they have writer's block, real life is getting in the way of writing...or their muse and love for that story is gone. Sometimes you have the even more annoying ones...cutting in to tell the reader that the next post will be in a week and they are sorry to not have posted anything that day.

They've always annoyed me. They're fake outs...they make you think there's a new chapter...when there isn't.

So, I'm sorry to everyone that feels the same way I do about the author notes like this, but I truly could not help this one. It was out of my hands and I would hate for you guys to think that I have deserted the fanfic or something...because that is not something I am going to be doing anytime soon, although to be truthful the idea did cross my mind early saturday morning when the "incident" happened. This was before I had opened my mail to look at my reviews because of the "incident"

I guess I better explain rather than to go on and on about things...

One of my best friend's birthday is coming up in September...and my other best friend and I have been just freaking out over what we're going to do for her seeing as she went all out for our birthdays...so we decided to make her a movie (because we think we can actually pull this off)...so of course (because we're stupid) decided that it had to be a musical...because they're so much more fun to spoof. We had been on like 0 hours of sleep at the time...anyway, we started writing the spoofed up script to Rent seeing as that is her favorite movie...(and it's going pretty well, I have to say)...so anyway, after I updated on Friday after a long day of scrip writing...We were looking through some sites to find inspiration and all that stuff...and I'm guessing somewhere along the way my computer got a virus.

Of course we didn't realize this because my computer chose then to not be annoyingly alert about things (it usually tells me when there's even the smallest of threats to it) and didn't tell us. So I turned off the computer later, everything was fine...

Come saturday morning I turned it on and it would not go past the Windows logo. It was just stuck there. My dad and I tried just about everything to get into the computer so that we could salvage any of the stuff I had saved in there...unluckily enough nothing worked.

A few months ago my flashdrive broke, so I had saved everything to my computer...including this entire fanfic...and this is when the bad news come...although I'm guessing you guys know what I'm getting at already.

The moment I realized that the computer had crashed...my first thought was this fic...it was the most that I lost and at the moment I thought of just giving up on this fic entirely and just not bothering to try to re-write everything from memory...but I can't.

Once I got to look at my e-mail on my mom's lap top and I read all those great thoughts you guys send me in your reviews I just couldn't give up on this. I'd feel so guilty letting you guys down. You, who have stuck with this fic since Last September. Almost a year, now. As well as all those new readers who love this fic.

So instead of just doing nothing I tried to remember everything that those ten chapters I lost had...and while I do have quite a bit written down and some stuff still in my head, I'm not too sure that what I write will be as good as what I had...I've probably lost a couple of plot lines through this...particularly in ch. 21 through 23 because I can't seem to remember what was going on then.

Earlier today I planned out all of ch. 19 and I hope to get it done by the end of this week, but I don't know how that will go as I am busy with tons of other things.

I just wanted to tell you guys, that I really appreciate all your reviews and that if it wasn't for them I probably would have stopped writing this fic after losing so much of my work. Luckily I do have a few of the rought drafts of certain scenes and that will help a lot...but I don't have much as I might have recycled most of that stuff...

I will try to get out the next chapter within the next two weeks and I will try hard to work out how exactly the plot flowed and up to what month I had gotten in ch. 28. I do still have the general plot, so I should get back on track by September...but updates will be a little scattered from now on as I will be posting as I finish a chapter...unless I manage to get a week to myself and then I can re-write at least half of what I lost.

So, wish me luck...and I will not give up on this fic. I have even started to see this almost as a blessing. Maybe this happened so that I can go back and do these chapters better...so that a plot idea i discarded can make this even better.

Thanks for reading...and I hope you stick with me and this story.

-Erika


	20. In the Hospital Wing

**Author's Note: **I have decided that you guys are the world's best readers ever. That's just a fact. Anyway, just finished writing this chapter a few minutes ago. I gave it a quick run through but I figured I might as well post it. As it turns out my lap top is not coming back. It's completely dead. I didn't think it was that bad, but apparently it was more than just a virus. So, who knows...I did it take it to a friend who fixes computers and stuff and he told me it would be a complete waste to fix it as it is now...so I'm using my ancient desk top now...which is surprisingly faster than the new desk top. go figure...but I have been writing and writing myself an outline of everything that I've written. I even found a few notebooks that had some scenes of certain chapters in them so...good process. I'm starting ch. 20 today and already I see some changes.

Anyway, I should stop rambling. Thank you guys so much for the support and hopefully I can get the next chapter out soon. I rather like quite a few things in this one...and I know all of you will like it too.

Enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Nineteen  
_**

_In The Hospital Wing  
_

_September 18, 1998_

Light filtered into the hospital wing in the later afternoon, falling on Draco's pale hair and making it look, if anything, paler. And from his spot, sitting beside Hermione Granger's hospital bed, Severus regarded his godson with a questioning look that he expressed only inwardly. The frown sketched on Draco's face had been reason enough to set Severus on the path of speculating the matter of Draco's true feelings about Granger's coma. Perhaps, he mused to himself, it was nothing more than guilt at having been the reason for the battle at Hogwarts where Granger had gotten hurt. Severus thoughts were driven off, however, when Harry reached blindly for him, taking hold of his wrist and then his hand and squeezing lightly.

It was a strange feeling, holding Harry's hand, but Severus pushed that away for later perusal. Instead he concentrated on what Harry's hand meant – namely that he needed a bit of his magical help. Without wasting another moment for thought, Severus allowed a flow of magic out, guided to Harry through the connection of their hands. Harry squeezed his hand in thanks and shifted slightly where he was perched on Granger's bed, half of his torso hovering above her with his other hand pressed to her temple. There his fore and ring fingers moved unconsciously in a calming motion. Her face was tilted towards him and Severus thought that had he not known better they could have looked like lovers sharing a private moment together.

The intensity of Harry's jade eyes was what made this moment seem like much more than it actually was. His set expression and stance made it almost a glaring fact. And perhaps it was this that bothered Draco so much. The jealousy of not having this kind of connection (as much as Severus knew it to be we just an illusion between the two friends) or perhaps – and Severus did not actually believe this was the reason – Draco's possible infatuation with Hermione Granger.

"How much longer will he be in there?"

Severus looked up from watching Harry and his best friend. Faye sitting on the other side of Granger's bed had her eyes trained on the two seemed also lost in wondering how, if it was to be believed that their relationship was simply platonic, it could be that they could so easily look as if they were in love.

"It could be five minutes. It could be an hour," Severus answered just as Harry who had remained holding his hand began to pill on his magic again.

Harry took only the smallest of fractions and settled down again.

"Oh, I hope dearly that she will be okay," Faye said and reached to brush a small lock of her hair off her face. "And Harry seems to love her greatly."

"I wouldn't know much about that," Severus replied. "But she is his best friend."

"And great love has been found between friends," Faye said with a smile.

"I do not doubt that," Severus replied stiffly. He thought of Harry's mother as he said this. "However, if it had been Mr. Weasley, I would not doubt Harry's devotion to getting him back."

Faye nodded and said nothing more.

Not for the first time that day, Severus wondered if it was possible for Harry to truly feel more for his best friend and vice versa. Severus did not know much about Harry's romantic life save for that which he had heard over the years from students, and never once had he heard of Ms. Granger as anything other than Harry's best friend.

When Harry tugged at his hand again only ten minutes had passed. This time, however, it was not magic that Harry wanted.

"Remove the spell," Severus said to Faye. "Remove it. Now."

"What? – But…" Faye began, looking startled.

Severus interrupted before she could continue. "Harry knows what he is doing. If he wished for the spell to come off now, then I am sure he has a reason for it."

Severus knew what it meant, but going into the details of the cure that he and Harry had found for his friend would have taken too long. And it was Harry really, who understood it better than he did. He and Faye had searched for a way to save her for so long, that what he offered to finding a cure for her was much more than what he Severus had offered. Harry had known the spell he had created so well and he had known the spell that Faye herself had put on Hermione to the point of knowing that just using the countercurse they had found for the first curse she had had put on her was not enough to save her if Faye's spell had accidentally trapped her mind as Harry had suspected had happened. And now Harry could say proudly that he had been right…and that he had successfully saved his best friend from an even more terrible fate than that of the one that she could have had with only the first spell on her.

Faye nodded once, sharply, and took out her wand. She stood up fluidly and pointed her wand at the girl. She muttered a few words and made some intricate wand movements and then after a small green tinted glow surrounded Miss Granger for about half a second, the spell was off. In that same second, she began to lose the pallid color that her skin had favored and her chest began to rise and fall softly. Her breaths began slowly. They were labored and short. But they were there.

Severus watched her now with his breath held and his wand in his hand. This would be the most precarious moment of the entire procedure and not one thing could go wrong. He tore his gaze from hers to focus on Harry. It was up to him now. He had only a few minutes left to get her completely out so that he could use the spell to counteract the curse that had been placed on her.

Harry frowned and Severus watched, hoping that absolutely nothing had gone wrong. Her eyes moved beneath her eyelids and they opened at the same time that Harry let out a gasp.

Without letting go of Harry's hand, Severus grabbed his wand and began to chant the spell that would act as a counter spell to the one that had been thrown at her by that Death Eater on the night of Dumbledore's death. It had not been enough to save her, as Harry had predicted when they had first tried the spell…and instead the potion they had prepared to help her out of her own mind and the spell would bring her back to them just as she had been before.

In the time it took Harry to catch his breath and lose the part of his mind that still resembled Granger's, the spell had taken effect. Granger's breathing had evened out and she opened her eyes for a minute before they closed again and she was in the land of dreams.

-  
-

-

Harry felt strange for a brief moment. It was as if he were still in Hermione's mind, with the strange colors and with her sitting on a cloud trying to elude him. The strange experience of seeing Hermione's mind in such a creative chaos had been enough for Harry to realize that Hermione was not herself. The girl he had encountered hadn't even known who he was, although she had admitted to him being familiar. That Hermione had taken a while to convince to leaving her mind. Harry had realized then when that had happened that this had been only part of his best friend rather than all of her. It had given him hope that she the rest of her was alright. But it had also scared him – what if this was the only part left.

Faye had not realized the affect that her spell would have on Hermione when she put it on her. The spell underneath had fought back until her mind had become tired of fighting to get out and had succumbed to a reality created within her mind. Hermione had controlled it, but she had not known it. Or at least that is what Harry got from the way that the Hermione he encountered had acted when he had mentioned it.

But now she was alright. She was breathing steadily and her chest rose up and fell back down without a long pause. Hermione was going to be okay and Harry knew that she would be just as he remembered her. It was he who had changed as she would soon find out.

"I think I'll go get Madame Pomfrey and inform Minerva," Faye said and Harry barely heard her, he was so focused on Hermione.

Harry heard Malfoy get up as well. But he sat back down a second later as Faye walked towards the floo.

They had been happily surprised to find that the floo within Hogwarts worked well enough without a connection to the ministry. It was part of this reason that the Order was using Hogwarts as headquarters for it made for more protection seeing as all other places were blocked out from the castle except for the ones connected to the safe houses which had luckily included his father's house – probably by Dumbledore's doing. The safe houses had their own network as well and connected only to each other, although they could easily be used as an exit to elsewhere.

Harry heard Hermione groan and reached to pat the hand that he already held. She moved in the bed for a moment and then settled back down and Harry continued to watch her.

"Harry."

Harry turned and let go of her hand.

"If you wish to stay here you may, but I think it would be best if Draco and I left. She will not be happy to see us and Madame Pomfrey might have a problem with that as well."

He stood up at once. "I'll come with you of course," Harry said. "I know she is okay and she would ask too many questions about me. I don't want to let Ron know I'm here."

"We've discussed briefly if you should tell your friends," his father said. "I cannot help but feel that in the end you will need them to stand by your side and by keeping so many secrets from them, that may not be possible."

"But I don't want you hurt because a Death Eater or someone finds out about us," Harry said.

"There are many if's…many reasons that you can use to excuse not telling them but you have to ask yourself if you will be able to do any of this without them. They have been at your side since day one."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but knew that there was no point and closed his mouth again. It was his choice. That was what his father was saying. It was his choice to tell his friends; to finally come clean about everything including the prophecy and even the horcruxes. And as good friends that they were they would accept everything that Harry told them and hopefully remain his friends. Ron might be upset about Snape for a while, but he'd get over it eventually. But it was Hermione that Harry was more worried about. It was her reaction that mattered more for it would influence Ron's. And Harry knew she would be upset that he had kept so much secret for so long.

"Do I tell them everything, then?" Harry asked instead of arguing against telling them even one bit of information.

"Tell them what you can and what you deem to be enough," Snape said.

Harry smiled. "Not everything, then," he said. "I guess I'll be staying the night."

"Stay the week," his father said. "You can come home at any time."

"Thanks," Harry said. "I guess you should go."

"Oh, yes. Come along, Draco."

Harry watched them. Draco going first. His father turned to look at him and smiled. "You'll need them in the end, and good friends like the ones you have are worth much more than you can imagine."

With that said, he stepped into the flames.

Harry stared at the fireplace until Faye stepped back out with the Headmistress and Madame Pomfrey.

"Oh, a success at last!" McGonagall exclaimed while Poppy Pomfrey rushed to Hermione's side and cast a few spells.

"She is as healthy as can be," she announced to them with a large smile that Harry had seen rarely grace her face. "Just a bit of sleep…and of course her muscles will protest a lot of movement for the next week or so, but overall Miss Granger is as good as new."

Hearing it said in such a way made Harry's heart soar. Maybe it was the fact that Madame Pomfrey had said it, or the fact that he hadn't really believed she wouldn't go back into her state until someone else said it, that made Harry finally truly believe his best friend would be alright.

-

-

-

Draco was familiar with the feeling of a jealousy that he felt for Potter, but never before had it hit him so strongly. Usually it was just a pang, when he thought about Harry Potter and everything that the other boy seemed to have that he didn't. And when he and Hermione had become friends he had begun to feel as if he had one up on Potter despite Hermione being one of Potter's best friends. The fact of the matter was that he had known even then that Granger did not like her best friend the same way she liked him. Romantic love was ever so different from platonic love. But seeing her there in that bed, sickly pale and not being able to do anything unlike Potter made him jealous once again of the Boy-Who-Lived, or did he go by The Chosen One now?

He had wished to be the one holding her hand and murmuring words of comfort. He had wanted to be the one that came up with a cure. But he hadn't even known about Hermione until that day, and to think he had been mad over her unanswered notes. And that was another thing. He had no way of knowing if she would forgive him for being the cause of that night. He had heard it in her voice that night, when he had managed to catch up to her in the dark, just before. The betrayal she felt had been so complete…but if she knew that he was now spying for the Order, would that make any sort of a difference?

Guilt and Jealousy both had made the time waiting for Potter to come out of her mind – as well as the strangely intimate position he had put himself with over Hermione – seem longer, and even after he had stepped through the fireplace to Snape's house, he found it hadn't left him.

Snape didn't come through the fire directly after Draco, but he arrived a minute or so later.

"It's only us for the week, then, Draco," Snape said.

Draco realized then that Snape would miss Potter.

"And I think it might make the perfect time, for a talk," Snape continued.

"A talk? A talk about what exactly?"

"A number of things," Snape said and did not elaborate on it. Instead he turned and walked towards his office.

Draco supposed that it meant he had to follow him.

-

-

-

"I don't think anyone knows what's going on," Ron lamented to Imy. "I hope Hermione's alright in there."

"She will be," Imy said. "Come on, we should head back to the common room. We'll hear about all of this later. You know how gossip travels around here."

Ron still didn't understand the maturity that Imy seemed to have. She was five years younger than he was and at times Ron found himself wondering if he was the twelve year old and she the seventeen year old. He didn't understand where it came from and hoped only that it wasn't what his mother had suggested the day they returned for school, granted he knew nothing about Imy's home life.

The common held only those people that seemed to be working on homework as well as a few first years playing chess or some other silly game.

"Hey, Ron! Where have you been all this time?" Seamus shouted from across the room when they entered. "Lavender was looking for you. I think she went to the library. She mentioned something about Ginny."

Ron didn't know what to think about his little sister anymore. She had never been this obsessive over anything before, except perhaps Riddle's diary in h first year, and that hadn't been her fault. But now, it was as if she were under some sort of love potion or spell. She was deluded and it seemed at times that she had lost her mind. He tended to ignore her most of the time, but he knew that eventually she was going to something that would wind up with her being hurt and that was something that he didn't want to see happen.

"I'll go find her," Ron said. "I guess I'll see you guys later."

Imy had already drifted to some of her second year friends and gave him as small smile as he left.

Just out of curiosity and to see if maybe the hospital wing had been reopened, Ron walked in the opposite direction of the library. With help from a few secret passageways, he made there in time to see Professor McGonagall leaving the infirmary which was now open. Hermione's bed he spied, was hidden behind a curtain and Ron felt his heart constrict in his throat as he thought of the worst possible scenario.

He couldn't move, not even to rush to her side to see if his fears were proven false. Instead he stood just within the doorway, staring at the bed belonging to his best friend. He noticed movement behind the curtains a minute or so later and heard a voice that he had been missing for months, and it wasn't Hermione's.

"He convinced me to tell them," Harry was saying, "and I admit, it might be for the best."

Ron stepped forward and walked directly to the bed and pulling the hangings aside, and there stood Harry, next to Hermione, one of her hands in his, and Faye stood on the other side of the bed.

"Harry," he said.

Harry's wide eyes greeted him in surprise, but he grinned a second later, let go of Hermione's hand and hugged him. Ron hugged him back, patting him on the back.

"I can't say I'm not mad at you," Ron told him. "But it's so good to see you. I've missed you, mate. What's going on with Hermione?"

Harry grinned wider. "We found a way to get her back to us," he said. "This morning we did and she's alright. As good as new. She hasn't woken up properly yet, but she will in a few hours. I have so much to tell both of you about everything."

It was then that Ron remembered about Harry's father. "I promise to not get too mad," he said. "How long are you staying anyway?"

"Don't promise me anything," Harry said. "I'll be here for the week. I have so much to do. So much I haven't even thought of."

"I would expect so with you as the Chosen One."

"You know I hate those titles," Harry said, but there was something about the way he said it, that made it seem like much more than it probably was.

Ron frowned, but didn't ask, knowing it would probably be addressed later when Hermione was awake and Harry told them everything. Instead, Ron looked Harry over and wondered if he was under a glamour to make him look like his old self, seeing as the last time Ron had seen him he had looked far less like James Potter. There was also something in his mannerisms that reminded Ron of someone that he couldn't place.

"I think I'll be heading back to Grimmauld Place," Faye said, startling Ron. "I'll be back tomorrow to see how she's doing and offer some help. I'll see you soon, Harry, thank you for…well, goodbye. Ron." She nodded his way and then walked towards the fireplace.

"She's an odd one," Ron said. "But helpful. Did you know, she and Malfoy are some kind of item. I wonder if dear Draco knows his father is cheating on his mother. Strange, feeling sympathy for the ferret…his father isn't that bad. I guess Malfoy takes after his mother."

"I can't say he does," Harry said. "But that isn't my tale to tell."

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but a look from Harry stopped him from asking. And it was then that Ron remembered Lavender had been looking for him and there was a possible Ginny problem. And Harry was in the castle.

"Listen, Harry, I think I mentioned how Ginny's been acting lately. I hope you don't meet her during your stay. She might just jump you. Anyway, I think something might have happened with Ginny and Lavender. I was on my way to find Lavender when I saw the curtains around Hermione's bed and I had to make sure she was alright. Anyway, I have to go find her…tell Hermione Hello for me if she wakes up before I get back. And, Harry, I really have missed having you around. Hogwarts just isn't the same."

Harry smiled. "I've missed you too Ron. Your sense of humor mostly. I could have used with some of it."

Grinning in return, Ron walked towards the open doors. "See you later," he called and turned and ran.

-

-

-

Harry stared at the spot where Ron had stood for a few moments before turning to Hermione and finding her honey brown eyes fixed on him.

"Harry," she said in a raspy voice, "why are you wearing a glamour?"

And Harry who had turned to get her a glass of water, almost dropped it and instead managed to spill water down his front.

Hermione let out a laugh which turned into a cough and Harry glared at her. She smiled and he couldn't help but laugh. He waved his wand a second later to levitate her the refilled cup of water, and then dried himself.

Hermione groaned as she sat up to drink the water, which she held unsteadily in her hand, helped along with Harry's levitation charm.

"Ah," she said when she had finished the glass. "That was good. How long have I been out? And you haven't answered my first question."

"Hard questions all around," Harry said. "It's September 18. You've been out since the end of May. Almost four months."

"And the glamour," she prompted.

Harry had hoped that telling her she had been unconscious for four months could keep her from continuing her questions about the glamour, but he should have known better than to try and get Hermione to forget what they had been talking about moments before.

"I want to explain everything including the glamour when Ron returns. I think I'm going to call Madame Pomfrey to look at you now that you're awake."

Hermione frowned. "But Harry…" she began.

"Hermione, please, just wait a little bit. This is really important and no one can know about it, alright."

"Where's Ron, anyway?"

"He mentioned something about going to see to Ginny and something about Lavender. I'll be back in a sec."

"Oh, alright," Hermione said. "But I don't like this."

Harry laughed. "I know you don't."

Harry turned to walk to Madame Pomfrey's office.

"Harry," she said, "has a lot happened in the past four months? Do I have to worry about any big changes?"

"Just wait until later, alright," Harry said and offered her a reassuring smile.

"Sure," Hermione said and fell back against her pillows.

Harry heard her mutter something as he entered Madame Pomfrey's office. After informing that Hermione was awake, the matron rushed to Hermione's side and after a few tests proclaimed that she could leave, but that she would have to take it easy with walking and any other physical activities.

"I'd like to see how well you can even stand. Being in a bed for so long like that will make this just a little harder, but you should be back to normal within a few days if not the week. Professor McGonagall has excused you from classes for the next two days. You have just a few weeks of catching up. I'm sure you'll do just fine. If you could just stand up, dear, I'd like you to try and walk across the room. Help her, please, Harry."

Harry took both of her hands and helped her get out of bed. The moment that her feet touched the ground she stumbled into him. Harry held her against him for a moment.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

Harry nodded and pulled back, still holding her hands but letting her stand on her own.

"I feel all wobbly," Hermione complained. "I wonder if this is how we felt when first learning to walk. Odd, isn't it?"

"Alright try walking. Harry, just let her lean against you. I think maybe a cane might help for a few days."

Harry grinned. "I'd like to see you with a cane," he said as he switched positions to wrap an arm around Hermione's waist.

She tried hard to not lean against him too much as she took her first step forward, and almost fell as she did. "Shut up, Harry," she said when she heard him laugh. "I'd like to see you after being in a bed for almost four months."

Hermione took her second step and this one was not as bad as the first. Harry helped her walk to the other side of the hospital wing and back. By the time they had gotten back to her bed a few minutes later, Hermione looked about ready to take a nap. Harry helped her into her bed and promised to wake her up in a couple of hours so they could talk.

"She is doing very well, Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey said. "I don't suppose that while she sleeps you will be willing to eat."

Harry realized then that he had not eaten since breakfast and it was almost six. "I think I might head down to the kitchens," he said to Madame Pomfrey, despite looking at Hermione's bedside wistfully.

"I did not mean for you to go, Harry," she said. "I was going to order something from the kitchens using the floo."

"Oh. Anything will do," Harry said and returned to Hermione's side, staring intently at her face. These moments to him were dear. He hadn't told her anything yet…and her reaction later would define the rest of their friendship most likely. And his father was right in saying that he would need them. The prophecy may not have mentioned them…but Harry loved them and Dumbledore had said it was his ability to love that made him more powerful than Voldemort.


	21. The Truth

**Author's Note: **

I've been really busy. I haven't even started on my summer reading because I've been so busy, and I really should get started soon...It doesn't help that I just got a new puppy. Mojo. And that I need to bond with said puppy/ teach him that shoes are not food. Especially since I really love my shoes. He's currently not allowed to visit the whole house just the kitchen...but he's been trying to eat my slippers every time I enter the kitchen...

Anyway, I did get this chapter done...and I've been stuck on the beginning of the next one because there are two ways I could go and while both will end in the same conclusion I have absolutely no idea if I should go ahead and write it differently from last time or not...because the original way was going to be really much longer and this might add a shortcut that I didn't think of last time.

I think I also haven't written because I haven't had more than two hours at the computer without something to do that really required my attention. So hopefully I can write the next chapter soon.

Anyhow, enjoy this one. It was fun to re-write and play around with it a little.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty_**

_The Truth  
_

_September 19, 1997_

Hermione woke up when she heard a crash. The hospital wing was dark and Hermione silently cursed Harry for not waking her up when he had been told to. She sat up in her cot and wondered what had fallen to wake her up. And then she saw a shadow, someone walking towards her. She couldn't tell who.

"Hermione," Harry's voice whispered.

"Harry?"

"Yes, it's me. I figured I'd let you sleep some more. I didn't want to talk in here anyway. Ron's waiting for us in the room of requirement. I fell out of the floo, but we can go that way. You'll be back here before you know it. Just…promise me you'll listen."

"Yes…yes, alright," Hermione said. "Help me stand."

He rushed towards her and helped her out of bed. Her feet made it into slippers that she was sure Harry had brought with him and then he helped her across the room. How he could see where he was going was beyond her, but she allowed him to lead her without asking questions. Madame Pomfrey liked to sleep in her office when she had patients to take care of, and a first year had come in with a broken arm earlier, so Hermione tried to not make any noise as they walked to the fireplace.

How Harry had managed to get a hold of floo powder was yet another thing Hermione wanted to know, but as he led her into the fireplace and shouted out their destination she forgot all of this, because they weren't going to the room of requirement.

Instead Harry called out an address that she didn't recognize. When they stepped out of the fire, Hermione found herself in a warm nice looking drawing room. Ron was already there, stuffing his mouth with biscuits, but he seemed to realize what he was doing when they came in. He looked sheepish for a moment and then after swallowing began to laugh.

"It's good to see a familiar attitude towards food," Hermione said and then turned to Harry. "You lied to me! Where are we?"

"Home," Harry said. "Well, my home. At least…well, I consider it that now. I have to for the wards to work, but that's not the only reason."

"I though the wards were destroyed when they died. You're of age, Harry, how could this…" she trailed off and Harry laughed.

"Not his Uncle's house, 'Mione," Ron said. "He explained only that to me, but I've…well I know a bit more than you do seeing as you were…well, that is to say…"

Hermione laughed. "Alright, well, while Ron continues to stutter, mind leading me to somewhere I can sit. I'm still unsteady on my feet, you know."

Harry nodded and at once settled her down in a comfortable couch. He took a seat next to Ron and sighed. "This is a really long story," he said. "One that I've guarded and for good reason. I didn't think the room of requirement or Hogwarts was safe enough to disclose this, but here I feel comfortable talking. McGonagall said you can stay the night if you want. I had to clear it with her first of course. Anyway, do you want tea or something to eat, Hermione? Best make you guys comfortable."

"If it's no trouble some tea would be nice, and I am famished," Hermione said.

"I'll get something for you. Ron?"

"Like you need to ask," Ron said and rubbed his stomach.

"Right, then, I'll be back in a few."

Hermione turned to Ron the moment Harry had left. "What is this place?"

"Safe house I suppose," Ron said. "Not one of the ones I've visited before, but it's really a nice place isn't it in comparison to Grimmauld Place ? I wonder why headquarters couldn't have been here. It's big enough. A little bigger even, if you ask me."

Hermione chose this time to look around. The house was kept clean but it had a lived in feeling. It was put together nicely.

"Does he live here alone?" Hermione asked.

"No. He said he lives with two others. Order members he assured me. They're probably sleeping by now."

Hermione nodded just as Harry re-entered the room with two trays floating in front of him. Hermione noted that Harry didn't even have his wand out, and she noticed one more thing, his glamour was off and he looked nothing like the Harry she had seen earlier when she had woken up. But this was still Harry.

"You look different," Hermione said. "You're not even wearing glasses."

"I know," Harry said "and I will explain that." He handed her a cup of tea that was done just as she liked it and allowed some mini sandwiches to float in front of her on a plate.

Ron had his own sandwiches and tea but Harry sat down only with his cup of tea held between his hands.

"I wonder if maybe a stronger drink may help," Harry said with a small laugh. "But I doubt I could find anything."

"Just tell us, Harry, it can't be that bad," Hermione said.

"I took what Myrtle told me really well," Ron added.

Harry laughed. "I didn't tell you earlier Ron, but you have it all wrong."

"But she said…and I…but your appearance…"

"Just let him tell us, Ronald!" Hermione snapped.

"I've missed you, Hermione," Ron said. "Only you could yell my name like that."

Hermione chuckled as she reached for a sandwich.

"It was maybe one am on my birthday last year…that's when I learnt my aunt and uncle and cousin had died. Anyway, a box arrived that night, time sent from 1981. It was from my parents. My dad – well, James had written me this letter and I was so afraid of what it said that I didn't read it that night. The next day we celebrated my birthday and another box arrived. I thought it was the same one or another one sent to haunt me because I hadn't read it yet or something. I didn't realize then it was addressed to someone else and also from my parents."

"I remember you freaked out and Remus said to just leave you…we were leaving anyway," Hermione said. "What – what happened?"

Harry took a sip of his tea. "I read it that night. Forced to by Snape. He – well, the other box was for him. By this point we had almost gotten past a few differences. He was realizing I wasn't my father and we had a better professor/student relationship. He came to tell me this and then made sure I read my letter. He stood there on the doorway watching me."

"That must have been awkward," Ron said. "What'd the letter say?"

"I have it," Harry said. "I think James explains better than I would be able to."

Harry reached into his robes pocket and pulled it out handing it to Ron. He walked towards Hermione with it and angled it so they could both read it. Neither, it appeared, wanted to do it out loud.

"It's actually Snape!" Ron laughed ten minutes later. "And I thought…I thought Lupin." He laughed a bit more and then he seemed to sober up. It was as if realization of what this meant had finally hit him. "Wait, what? You're father is Snape? Snape who killed Dumbledore? Snape…that traitor!"

"He's not a traitor. He did that on Dumbledore's orders – killed him, I mean – and he really is my father."

"You look like him," Hermione said softly. "A lot. Except I guess there's more of your mother in you now, too. It explains so much. But…Harry why didn't you tell us sooner? I – this is big…and you deliberately hid it from us."

"Snape!" Ron exclaimed. "That bloody bastard. He's your father and your mother and James…and they arranged it? I don't know if I can handle this. It's a wonder you weren't in Slytherin."

Hermione's mind was running faster than it ever had with numerous thoughts that seemed to infest her at Harry's revelation. And there was more. She knew there was more. Harry looked as if he were waiting for Ron to finally get it before he continued, but Hermione could see him weighing the options of telling them the rest.

"There's more, isn't there? More that you haven't told us. That you've kept secret. Explain this to me…how did you expect us to react when you finally told us all of this? Why didn't you tell us? We're your best friends. I thought out of anyone it would be us that you'd go with this. Snape may be your father, but only until recently. We've been by your side since we were eleven – six years, hasn't it been?"

Harry looked offended and Hermione thought that he was going to say something that she knew he would end up regretting later, but instead he shook his head. Hermione felt a spiral of something coming towards her, not Harry shook himself and turned away.

"No!" he exclaimed. "Not now."

Before Ron could stand and go to his side and before Hermione could pull out her wand someone appeared next to Harry and enveloped Harry into his arms. It took a moment for Hermione to realize this was Snape. Perhaps because he was hugging Harry or the oddly stripped pajamas that he was wearing as he whispered words of comfort to his son.

It was than that Hermione realized that she had missed too much to be able to pass judgment on Harry's choices. And Ron having been awake all that time she hadn't for some reason had not acted like Ron. The shock had been there, but he had not lost his head, instead he had done everything possible to imagine what his friend had said as real. Perhaps those four months she had been unconscious had been enough for Ron to mature under the watchful eye of Lavender and he had begun to accept that Harry was keeping secrets. But she, still in many ways younger than her friends despite her age had not known how to take one of them lying to her for little over a year. And now she watched as what she had caused was fixed by Severus Snape. Maybe Harry did need him in his life…and maybe he did have a reason for lying.

"Is he alright?" Ron was asking. "What was that?"

"I shall leave it for Harry to explain. I certainly am glad he chose here to tell the two of you. I don't want to even think about the pain this would have brought him if it got out of control," Snape said.

He said it so casually, so much like her own father would say something of the kind that Hermione began to believe that maybe Snape being his father was not that much of a bad thing. It was the lying that hurt her…but she would be hypocrite to say she didn't keep secrets as well.

"I'm okay," Harry said. "I really should watch it with the emotions."

"If you're sure," Snape said. "This could all wait for tomorrow, or the day after."

Harry laughed and it was welcome to Hermione's ears as laughter that Harry rarely let out – it was carefree and unguarded. "You should have seen this coming," he said to Snape.

"Yes, well, I did not suspect you were so unstable, still. I had hoped we did not need to talk about that night in Godric's Hollow, but it might be important to the development of your magic. I think I'll have…well, someone will have to take a look at it. If you're well, now, continue on, otherwise go to bed."

"Thanks," Harry said. "Goodnight."

Snape nodded Harry's way, then turned to Hermione with a penetrating gaze. "I've heard it's best to not interrupt a story until the end…and to not make conclusions until then."

Hermione nodded once and said nothing as she watched him walk up the stairs.

Ron broke into laughter the moment Snape had climbed all the steps. "Did you see him, Hermione? He was wearing stripped pajamas. They weren't even black!"

Hermione sighed deeply and was afraid that perhaps Ron had not understood after all and he was just suffering from some brain malfunction that led to his laughing at everything.

"Right," she said. "I guess, I could learn to listen now. And I do promise to listen to everything."

"I didn't tell you guys because of him," Harry said.

"What, Snape? That bastard," Ron said. "Did he just refuse to let you tell us?"

Harry laughed. "That would have been simpler. I would have told you regardless of his wishes. Especially with our rocky relationship at the time – I did wish to tell you, but there were…well, it wasn't easy thinking about everything that could happen if I did tell you.

"Why, Harry?"

"Why? I was so scared the two of you would desert me or something now that Snape was my father. Ron in particular, he hated him far more than I did. And I didn't want to lose either of you."

Hermione frowned. "You know we will always be there for you. We're not going anywhere. We made this choice when we were eleven. I don't know how long Ron has lasted at Hogwarts without you. I did notice you weren't wearing robes."

Harry blushed.

"I want you to explain all of that too," Ron said. "Leaving like that. I think it might have added to this obsession Ginny has with you. She claims you kissed her before you left."

Harry blushed if possible even harder. "She might have jumped me on my way out," he said. "I ran."

Ron laughed. "Oh, god, and she didn't get a clue."

Harry laughed with him. "I forgot to ask earlier, what did Lavender want?"

"Oh, she caught Ginny trying to leave the grounds to go find you or something with a tracking spell. Dark magic, apparently, so Lavender took her to the library with Luna and they wanted to know what we should do with her, because she could turn really dangerous but they didn't want to take her to McGonagall before asking me first.

"She's been getting pretty out of hand. I don't know…but she's not acting like herself one bit. I had hoped it would go away, but…anyway, I sent her to McGonagall and last I heard my parents were being called in. But it's probably better that way."

"Poor Ginny," Hermione said. "I wonder if it could be a spell doing this to her."

Ron shrugged. "Anyway, what were you saying Harry?"

"That I couldn't tell you," Harry said with a forced laugh. "If he had captured either of you or somehow you had accidentally let this out, my father would have been killed for his connection with me. I was protecting him, mostly. I also wanted to get to know first, I think. I wasn't ready for everyone to know. And I don't think he wanted everyone to know either."

Hermione sipped her tea and watched Harry. He had sat back down after Snape had left, but he looked ready to stand again within a moment's notice. And as she began to look at him closely she could see the resemblance he had to Snape. His movements and expressions gave him away, even. She wondered if he had acted this way back in May.

"Our relationship began in this house. I stayed here for the summer and everything began to change then. I grew to really love this place. I came her for Christmas. I surprised him by decorating the house…he got hurt then at a meeting and…I…well, it was then I realized how much I really cared about him. I've been here only a few days and I've already realized how much I left behind.

"I got really angry at him at one point at the end of last year. And then he went and killed Dumbledore and told me nothing about Dumbledore's orders…and – I'll have to explain all of that later – but I was really angry at him for a long time and when he finally brought me here. Oh…I guess I have to tell you about that too…I didn't realize how much I missed this place."

The fondness in Harry's voice when he spoke about Snape scared Hermione a little bit. She had never heard him speak about an adult like that, that wasn't Sirius and she realized how much she had missed.

"There's more?" Ron asked. "Don't tell me you have a brother or something."

Harry laughed. "No," he said. "But there are things I've hid from you. Things that have happened since I left Grimmauld Place this last summer."

Harry took a deep breath and stood up as if he were looking for the right words. He walked across the room and paced in front of the fireplace. Hermione and Ron waited patiently. He stopped suddenly and turned to them with an intense gaze.

"Do you remember how Neville dropped the prophecy…the one with my name in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked them, suddenly.

"How could I forget!" Hermione said. "I still have nightmares about Dolohov sometimes." She gave a great shudder.

"Well what about it?" pressed Ron ignoring Hermione completely.

Hermione shot Ron a glare that made Harry grin before he continued.

"That was only a recording of the prophecy, and that night in Dumbledore's office he let me hear the entire thing. It was what they were protecting. Voldemort wanted to know if the prophecy foresaw his destruction when I was one and if it told him how I had done that. He…he doesn't understand the power of love."

"What did it say?" Ron asked.

Hermione looked at him with a shocked expression. She had wondered for a long time what it could have said and why it had anything to do with Harry. But after not hearing it mentioned again she had forgotten it, and now Harry was bringing it back up and he was claiming to know exactly what it had said. And for once Hermione didn't want to be imparted with this piece of information. What if it said something terrible!

"What did it say?" Ron asked.

Harry closed his eyes as if to remember, or from the pain of remembering, and then said, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

-

-

-

Harry waved his wand over the sleeping Ron and levitated him up the stairs. He led him to one of the guest room and dropped him gently on the bed. Ron who was a deep sleeper noticed nothing, not even Harry struggling to pull off his shoes. Instead, once Harry had completed his task, he turned and let out a loud snore. Harry covered him and gave him one more look, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Hermione was still in the drawing room and Harry thought that she might like to remain there for the rest of the night. Unlike Ron who had taken everything as well as, or even better than Harry had expected him to, Hermione was still a little shocked at the revelations of the night, and that was without her knowing about the Horcruxes which Harry thought of as need to know information. They almost had all of them anyway and despite Hermione's quick thinking, Harry didn't think that she or Ron would be much help with finding them. Not like Draco would be, even though he would not admit that to the blond.

Hermione looked up when Harry entered. "I still can't believe so much has happened so fast," she said. "I feel like it is still May and Dumbledore just died. And yet, you and Ron talk about him so casually."

"He was sick. He was dying already," Harry said despite having explained this earlier.

She had remembered about his father murdering Dumbledore an hour ago and she had not let it go, despite Harry's explanations. Her argument was that if he could kill Dumbledore so easily and continue working for the man that had ordered Dumbledore's death in the first place there had to be something wrong with him and he could still betray Harry to Voldemort…that maybe that was his plan all along.

"I don't understand how you can trust him after what he did," she said.

"He's my father, Hermione," Harry said. "And yes we may not have known it until a year ago, but he is still my father and when he showed me those memories I knew that he wasn't lying. If you can't trust him, then trust me."

Hermione frowned at him. "I do trust you, Harry," she said. "It's just that people are always trying to hurt you, Harry, and you're very needy of a father figure. First it was Sirius and now it's Snape and I fear that eventually it will lead to you getting hurt and not in the same way as with Sirius, but with it somehow involving Voldemort."

"Hermione, you don't know him like I do," Harry said with a shake of his head. "I know you're just worried, but…he's my father. This is not as if he had adopted me. He is my flesh and blood and he wouldn't betray me like that. Just like your parents wouldn't."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it. "I'll be there when you fall, Harry," she said instead.

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes. Hermione was just as stubborn as ever, but eventually, he knew, she would come around.

"I'm to head to bed. You coming?" Harry asked.

"I'll stay down here," Hermione said. "I'm not tired and I think I see a good book collection over there."

Harry laughed. "I guess we're agreeing to disagreeing, then? Don't exert yourself reading. You still need rest. I'll leave a mark on the room you can use upstairs. Can you even make it up there? Might be best if you slept down here, there's a room just down the hall to the right. It might be a bit dusty, but you can use it if you want."

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said. "And promise me to at least be careful."

Harry nodded with a roll of his eyes. "I wonder if you would have to tell Ron to be careful when he is going home."

"You know that's different…" Hermione began.

Harry laughed. "I think in time you'll come to realize that it isn't that different. See you in the morning." And with that said, Harry turned and walked up the stairs glad that he had followed his father's advice and told them, and glad that it had turned out far better than he had expected it to.


	22. The Plan

**Author's Note: **

I have a monster in my kitchen that seems to have found a way to stash away plastic bags and then rip them apart when I'm not home. His name is Mojo. I've been beyond busy lately. And school started up again a few weeks ago so I've had no time to write, which is really annoying because I don't remember what I was going to write anymore and this chapter threw me for a twist because something that happens in this one doesn't in the one I lost, and something that did happen in the last one was thrown off the window. That is the reason this one was so hard to write...I wasn't very fond of my other ch. 21 to begin with, but the point of the matter is that since I changed that...this chapter had no real purpose and I hope that now that I got it out I can focus on fixing my plot so that it all fits together like planned without that bit.

Anyway, I don't know if I got back to everyone that reviewed the last chapter...so if I didn't, I'm sorry, but I have no idea who I responded and who I didn't. If you did have some question you wanted answered, just put it in your next review or even pm me/email me. I don't mind either.

I've felt so bad in the last week getting all these story alerts for this story and not having a chapter to post with everything I've been busy with which mostly includes running around the kitchen every morning after the puppy has stolen my slipper.

Anyhow, I better stop before I go on a longer tangent...so enjoy the chapter and hopefully I'll get the next out faster than this one. And thank you for the reviews and sticking with this story. I do promise to finish it, even if it will be slowly. Thanks again.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty One_**

_The Plan  
_

__

September 20, 1998

Faye entered the library with a smile playing on her lips. Today was a

good day. And it would be a day spent with the one she loved, if she had anything to say about it. For the first time in months the house had fallen into the serene noiselessness that it had found itself in when she and Lucius had first moved in almost a year ago. That Lucius hadn't been the first to notice this change surprised her, but then he seemed to be busy all the time in the library. And she knew he was up to something. How could she not when every time she entered the book filled room he was nervous and seemed to have hidden anything he had been previously working on.

This time, however, it seemed that Faye had found Lucius so focused on his work that he had neither heard the door open or the sound of her heels clicking on the hard wood floor. When she spotted him, he was leaning over a table. A book had been thrown aside and sat precariously on the edge of the mahogany table, and scattered pieces of parchment were strewn across the table. Lucius had a roll of parchment in front of him and he was scratching away at it with his quill.

Faye stepped forward slowly and leaned over his shoulder, one of her hands coming to rest on his shoulder. Lucius jumped and nearly fell off his chair.

"Merlin, woman!" He exclaimed. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I could spend some time with you. The Weasleys are gone for the day and I had hoped we could spend some time together."

"I'm busy," Lucius said.

"Busy?"

"Yes. You know. Things to do. People to…well, I'm just busy."

"People to what?" Faye asked. Her good mood had almost vanished.

Lucius had turned back to the things on his table and had started to pick them up. "Hmm? What was that?"

"People to what? Finish your sentence."

"It's an expression, isn't it?" Lucius tried hard to look confused.

Faye snorted and rolled her eyes. "Sure," she said. "A muggle one."

"Ah, yes," he said.

"You don't approve of muggle sayings," Faye said. "You once ranted for an hour about how stupid they were -- idioms were on your mind, I believe."

"Right. Well…" he cleared his throat. "I meant simple what the saying meant…that I'm very busy."

Faye who had pulled away from him when he had jumped earlier, strode forward. "Too busy to spend time with me, are you?"

Lucius nodded his head and then stopped, smiling sheepishly at her.

"I hate you," Faye said, half in jest.

"Right…well, like I said, I have to get back to what I was working on before."

"Subtle," Faye said but did not turn to leave. Instead she walked to the table, pulled one of the chairs out and sat down.

Lucius had left most of his things in a neat stack on the table near the middle. A few books were on top of the pieces of parchment and Faye couldn't quite see what had been written on them. Faye stared at it for what could have been a minute, and then a second later looked towards Lucius. Lucius was staring at her and there was something about his expression -- one that she had seen only a handful of times and only on the rare occasion he had allowed her to see him after a Death Eater meeting.

"Fine," he said suddenly and for a moment Faye thought that he meant he would spend the day with her, but instead he pushed the pile towards her.

Faye set the books -- old leather bound ones without titles -- aside and then looked back up at Lucius as if she expected at any minute for him to take them away.

"Just -- just look at everything," Lucius said and got up. He began to pace.

Faye pulled the pieces of parchment closer and wondering exactly what she was about to discover, she glanced down and found letters addressed to Lucius.

"Letters, Lucius?" She asked. "I'm afraid that I don't quite understand the meaning of this."

"Just…just read them," Lucius said, coming to a pause in his pacing before picking back up.

Faye nodded wordlessly and grabbed the first one and began to read.

-

-

-

The cold stone wall behind her had some sort of message carved into it. How that had been done, and what the message was, were the two things she had pondered since she had been unceremoniously thrown into the cell. The old man that was sleeping propped up to that wall had mentioned once that he had known the man that had done that before he had been killed. That man had been in the cell for close to ten years and Artemis thought that he was not going to last much longer.

The sweet woman that also shared the cell with them gave her smile as she draped the moth eaten, too thin blanket that one of the Death Eaters had thrown at them once. She walked back to where Artemis sat and slid down to lean against the bars with her.

"How are you today, Dear?"

"A little better," Artemis said. "But then, you never know when one of them will hit and then I'll feel terrible again. It's bound to happen soon."

She laughed and patted her head. "You'll be fine. In fact, I'm quite surprised at your still being alive with the kind of curse you took. They have left you alive so long because they assume you are suffering with the curse. And let us hope that they do not suddenly stop thinking that."

The curse. Or spell, or whatever it was called was part of what had gotten her in this mess, and of course getting involved with the magical world. She could already see her sister saying "I told you so" in her mind. And Echo would say that, if Artemis ever saw her again as unlikely as it was for Artemis to ever be reunited with her family. After all, Voldemort held her captive and he wouldn't let her go, not even if Harry himself came asking for her. In fact, she and the rest of the prisoners were under the impression that this was Voldemort's plan. But after the two weeks without any sign of Harry, Artemis had begun to doubt Harry would come to their rescue. But still secretly, deep down, she hoped with all her might that somehow they would be rescued and not just for her sake.

She knew it was too much to hope, that along with her rescue there would be a way out of the curse that had been placed on her; that somehow everything would go back to normal.

The sleeping man snored in his sleep and Artemis smiled gently. She knew him only by his last name, as he had not offered a first name when she had been first thrown into the cell. Copperfield was his name and he had been there for so long for getting the wife of some Death Eater pregnant. Artemis had no knowledge of the particulars, but only that the Death Eater had had nothing to do with Copperfield winding up in this dungeon cell.

"What are you thinking, dear?"

"Just wondering if we will ever get out of here. If I will get out of here alive, for that matter," Artemis said.

"Don't dwell on such thoughts," she replied and offered a sad smile.

She was just a few years older than Artemis and optimistic about almost everything. She kept everything interesting with her attitude and made the times when the curse, or spell, or whatever it was, hit easier than Artemis supposed it had to be.

For what it was, the imprisonment was not terrible, but it was also not how she wanted to spend the rest of her life, as long as she would be alive, anyway, considering the spell.

Artemis closed her eyes for a moment and considered sleeping against the bars, knowing that she was as comfortable as she could hope to get.

-

-

-

Faye sat back in shock. "I cannot believe you," she whispered. "To do something so stupid! What were you thinking?"

Lucius looked for a moment as if he wasn't going to say anything, but then he began. "I did this for our son. Draco will have to become a full fledged spy only too soon and if I know my son, I know he is not ready for this."

"So instead you will put your life in his hands? Oh, that makes it so much better."

"Severus will not be able to protect him much longer. The last time I saw Harry…well….This was the only thing I could think of doing. I have thought of this long and hard."

Faye pushed back from the table and stood up. She shot Lucius a dirty look. "You realize that now you've only made this harder for Draco. Voldemort will not take you back, and if he does, it will be to kill you and nothing else. And I will not stand by and watch you give yourself and our son up to that mad man."

"That won't happen," Lucius protested and tried to make his argument sound but did not manage it.

"And you know what," Faye said, pointing her finger at him. "I think this has nothing to do with Draco but the uselessness that you seem to feel at being stuck in this house. You've been up to something for months and I don't think you were worried about Harry and Severus. I know you too well to buy that."

Lucius shook his head and in anger, got up, grabbed his letters and left the library.

Faye groaned and dropped back down into her chair. She put her head in her hands and wondered what would happen because of Lucius. If he hurt Draco with this scheme, or for that matter Harry, Lucius would not live to tell anyone the tale.

-

-

-

Lucius re-entered the library about five minutes later and this time he was beyond all emotion. Or at least, he was going to ignore his emotions and put all of that behind him until he was through with the conversation that would follow. That he had needed those five minutes to compose himself bothered him immensely and now as he headed directly towards her, without his letters he told himself that he would not back down on the issue. He had thought his plan through to the smallest of details. He had made sure that despite the risks, the gain would be better and it was all down to the fact that Severus could not just be found out -- that would lead to his death -- but instead have a way out with a smaller risk of death. Faye didn't seem to understand this, however, and Lucius was ready, now, to explain everything. And he would have her on his side.

"You think me foolish for all of this," he said, sliding into his chair once more.

"No more foolish than I would think a person on the brink of committing suicide," she responded and Lucius noted that she held her emotionless mask up, as she faced him.

Lucius sighed. "I always knew it would be hard to get you on my side. But I somehow thought you would at least listen to what I have to say on the matter."

Faye scoffed. "I have heard…read, enough."

"You have always said that assuming is not the way to do anything and yet now here I have the pot calling the kettle black."

"What is it with the muggle expressions already!" Faye snapped. She stood up, and ran a hand through her blond hair in an agitated manner and then she paced a few times and sat back down.

Lucius merely chuckled. "You haven't heard the whole plan," he continued a second later. "You don't know what I have…how hard I've worked for this…"

"And you have no idea what is at stake if this goes wrong," Faye responded. "Your life. Draco's life. Harry's. And where will we be, then?"

"I have thought of that," Lucius said softly and reached to grab her hand. "I've also thought of Severus and what will happen to Harry in the event of his death. I will not deny Severus his readiness for anything, but I have personally experienced his wrath upon betrayal, but if I am there…if I am the one to give him away Severus will see it coming. He will have warning enough to do something about it."

"Like not show up," Faye said.

Lucius shook his head. "Like having Harry's extraordinary magic aid him to escape."

"Why? So he won't blow your cover? What does that matter?"

Lucius shook his head. "Because Draco will not make for a good spy and because this is what is best for the Order."

"And because you've felt so useless in the past few months," Faye said. "Because you haven't done anything you feel is particularly helpful to the Order."

Lucius said nothing. It was partly that. It had begun as that. The point of the matter was that when he had first written that letter to Nott, it had been because he felt useless, and then Harry had been there in need of training and help. But then he was gone, and the Weasley's were there. And Imogen had been so helpful and even she had agreed his plan would help in the long run. There was truth to that statement.

"Draco will not be able to handle this," Lucius said after his pause.

"How do you know?"

"Are you insinuating I don't know my son?" Lucius asked. "I've been a part of his life for the past sixteen years. I think I know him well enough."

Faye shook her head. "Severus has changed him, I think," she said. "And he has discovered a new power. I told you about this. I do not think the boy you knew is the man of today."

Lucius didn't know what to think to that. He remembered faintly that Faye had told him about some sort of power Draco had. And he also knew that Draco must have grown up some after the year he had had, but he still did not consider his son strong enough to hold the position of spy.

"And what will you do, when he sees you? When he thinks you are the one that betrayed Severus?"

"We tell him the truth," Lucius said. "We tell him you are his mother."

Faye scoffed and shook her head. "And how is that supposed to help you? Draco will hate you more than he probably already does for being the reason Voldemort has him in his clutches."

Lucius knew his son held him in contempt. After all, the past year had been because of him. And adding the fact that Lucius had lied to him for sixteen years was not going to help his case. Draco would be against this plan without even hearing what it entailed just because it was his idea. And how would he react to the knowledge that Lucius had been out of Azkaban for so long and not tried to contact him. Draco may have matured some, but Lucius was sure that this would be reason enough for Draco to throw some sort of fit.

"He'll have to find out some time, I suppose," Faye said. "But I would rather it not be because of some plan." She sighed and looked at Lucius with a cautious look to her eyes. "I'll hear it out," she said. "But we're going to have to go through it with Severus and Harry and maybe other members of the Order. Draco, too, of course."

Finally things were looking up, and Lucius smiled at Faye, taking her hand. "It is the least you can do," he said.

Faye nodded. "I do so much because of love," she muttered to herself. "And I do so dearly want Draco to know me as his mother."

"He will soon," Lucius said.

Faye smiled, but within moments her smile had vanished. "I can't think of any reason why he would even bother to try at a relationship between us."

"If he is different, as you say, maybe he will try," Lucius said.

"I hope so," Faye said and then motioned for Lucius to begin. "Now, tell me your plan."

-

-

-

__

September 22, 1998

Harry hugged Hermione one more time and then turned to Ron. They clasped hands and Ron gave him a reassuring smile. Harry reminded himself why he was leaving Hogwarts so soon after Hermione's recovery. The simple fact was that up until the day he told Hermione and Ron most of the truth, he hadn't thought of Godric's Hollow and the events that had taken place there. It hadn't been until just the day before that he had remembered Artemis. He had blocked her out of his mind just as he had tried to block out his lack of control for his magic.

"I wish you could stay longer," Hermione said from where she leaned against the wall of the headmistress' office.

"I do too," Harry said. "But I really should get going. I need to ask my father a few questions about Voldemort's headquarters and work on saving Artemis."

"I'll look for anything that can help with the curse, Harry," Hermione said. "I'll send word, the moment I have anything."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry turned to the roaring fire. In his fist he held the floo powder that would take him home. He threw it into the fireplace and gave one final goodbye to his friends.

"Visit soon," Hermione said as he stepped into the green flames.

Harry nodded and then called out his destination. When he stepped out into the drawing room of his home, Harry found a strange scene. Standing as far away as possible from the other two occupants of the room was Draco. Faye sat shakily in an arm chair, looking as if she was considering killing the man sitting in the chair next to her. Lucius sat next to her with a small almost hidden frown that Harry only noticed because he had lived with the man for a few months and gotten some training from him.

His father stood in the doorway, looking in with a tray floating in front of him.

"What's going on here?" Harry asked.

Draco who had apparently been frozen before Harry entered turned to him. He blinked a few times and then looked from him to Faye and Lucius before he grabbed the pot of floo powder and he threw it into the fire and was gone with a mutter of his destination that even Harry missed.

"I take it you told him, then?" Harry asked.

Faye nodded and let out a sob. Lucius reached to take her hand, but she moved hers away and she shot him a glare before walking out of the room and to the kitchen.


	23. Reminiscence

**Author's Note: **

I think I've finally got this whole new puppy, school, friends, writing thing down again...just wait until I introduce college applications to the mix. Anyhow, I finally got the plot under control and I already know what will come in the next chapter. I really did like writing this one. It felt sort of like before…so I'm starting to get back into that flow. I am also working on a one-shot Severitus, so look out for that within the next month or so.

Thanks to those who reviewed. You guys are great. Keep on reading and reviewing. Enjoy. I'll hopefully have the next chapter out soon…I'm already working on it.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty Two_**

_Reminiscence _

_  
September 24, 1998_

The portrait of Albus Dumbledore was bored. It was a feeling he had become very familiar with since waking up as a portrait back in June. As a portrait, there were only a few things that he could do for entertainment. Most of that consisted of people watching. The gossip that a portrait got to hear by just sitting in a room not doing anything was sometimes the only thing that kept him sane.

At the moment Dumbledore sat in the headmistress' office waiting to see if Madame Prince had been right in telling him to wait for the arrival of a very interesting person. Madame Prince hadn't said much about the identity of the person but just that Dumbledore would want to talk to the person before whoever it was left the office. Dumbledore hadn't been waiting long, when the fire turned green and Draco Malfoy stumbled out, dropping his bag and scattering his belongings across the floor.

Dumbledore waited until Draco had righted himself and then coughed, startling Draco, though not enough for him to drop his bag again.

"Who's there?" he asked.

Dumbledore laughed. "On the wall, Draco," he said.

Draco turned to the wall that held the pictures of all previous headmasters of Hogwarts. "Hello, Professor," he said. He gave Dumbledore a nervous look. "I should get going."

"No, Draco, stay," Dumbledore said. "I happen to know that Professor McGonagall is away at a meeting and will not be back for a number of hours."

"Well, I was planning on meeting someone," Draco said.

"She doesn't know you're coming," Dumbledore said.

Draco didn't deny it and Dumbledore was glad for it. He hadn't actually known if Hermione knew Draco was coming to see her.

Draco groaned. "Alright fine," Draco threw his arms in the air. "What shall we talk about? The fact that I attempted to kill you all of last year? That my parents have lied to me these past seventeen years? What?"

"Your parents lied to you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh, don't play dumb!" Draco said. "You must have known all along. She's my mother…Faye…you knew didn't you?"

"Ah," Dumbledore said. "I understand the anger now. I don't think Miss Granger will be of any help in that case."

Draco ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated sound. "And why not?" he demanded.

"Why? Because Miss Granger has just recently woken up from a four month sleep, she is just now getting used to everything that took place while she was asleep, and because I believe she was going to visit her parents this afternoon."

Draco sighed and paced around the room. "Thank you for not informing me sooner."

Dumbledore shrugged. "Being a portrait, my boy, is not at all easy," he said. "I must get my entertainment somehow."

"I am not here to be a source of your entertainment, old man. I knew I should have stayed at Spinner's End. At least there I could suffer on my own."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I wonder, Draco, if you could even explain your problem to Miss Granger without telling her that your father is not in Azkaban as well as other Order business that she had no need to know."

"I don't know," Draco said. "I don't know, alright. I didn't plan any of this out? I only knew I had to see her. And I have to see her. I love her."

"Interesting," Dumbledore said.

Draco glared at him. "You're a portrait," he said. "Why am I even talking to you? You can't keep me here."

"Oh, yes, but I can follow you."

"In fact, I think you're lying about Hermione having to go see her parents," Draco said. "You just don't want me to tell her anything." She promptly grabbed his bag and made for the door. "And for the record, I won't tell her anything she has no reason to know." With that said Draco opened the door.

-

-

-

"I can't believe they told him," Harry said to his father. "I didn't think he'd take it that badly either." Harry sat at the kitchen table waiting for Severus to finish making dinner.

"Oh, really?" Severus asked. "I do believe that we were in a similar situation more than a year ago and neither of us took it very well."

Harry laughed. "Yes…I guess it is sort of the same thing." Harry frowned. "But I didn't run off."

Severus nodded at that. "And I assume that means you took it better? I do remember you not eating at the time."

Harry frowned. And then he began to laugh. "Was that what made you give me all those potions?" He asked. "And that time you made me breakfast." He laughed harder. "I never stopped eating because of it," he told Snape.

"What? But you showed signs of malnutrition. I thought you were starving yourself and every time I saw you eat, you ate so little."

"It was always the same after the Dursleys. I made myself sick second year after going to the Burrow. I…well, you know how the Dursley's were. I didn't think it would hurt me to eat so much when I got to the Burrow and Mrs. Weasley's food was so good. But that night I got sick over it."

Severus nodded slowly in understanding.

"So I ate very little at first, and of course nothing too heavy, but after a while I got back to my usual diet. It didn't help that my body was changing."

Severus frowned at him. "I'm surprised you managed to pull this off without anyone noticing. I should have, now that I think back on it. I have gone through a similar situation."

"Really?" Harry asked.

The past was a topic never breached and Harry realized then that he knew very little about his father's past. He knew only snippets gained from his lessons in occlumency the second time around, but they had never discussed any of it.

Severus nodded as he grabbed a knife. He sliced a tomato into perfect equal slices. He added nothing else to the conversation, and instead continued making the salad.

"About Kreacher," Harry said after the silence had gone on long enough. "I thought about going calling him again to talk about the possibility of Regulus being alive. I'd like to really find those Horcruxes soon and to get all of this just done with, but I don't know how I'd go about any of it."

"As important as the Horcruxes and Kreacher are, I can see you are agonizing about that muggle girl and her family," Snape said. "And that is something I've meant to talk to you about."

Severus turned to face Harry now, ignoring the salad. He focused his scrutinizing stare on Harry. "You lost your control when your friends were here," he said. "And had it not been for my interference I fear what could have happened to them. I thought that was behind you."

Harry sighed. "I don't know how that happened," he said. "I guess, it was just I was so angry at her. She had no right to demand anything from me even if I did keep this from her. And then there was so much more there. Like Artemis. I only ever thought of Hermione up until she was alright, and then it hit me that I hadn't tried to help Artemis. And that night came rushing back. I killed a man."

"A man that would have killed you the first chance he got," Severus returned. "A Death Eater."

Harry nodded slowly. "I still took his life. He wasn't just a Death Eater. He most likely had a family. A wife, children, a mother, father…and I took him away from them."

"Excuse me for being glad he didn't take you away from me," his father said.

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. After a minute of this, he stood up and went around the table to where Severus stood and wrapped his arms around his father's middle.

Severus hugged him back almost immediately. "It's alright to feel guilt, Harry, but you must understand that this is a war, and in it you will have to kill or be killed."

"Not if I can help it," Harry said pulling back a little so he could see Severus' face. "A wound and a lifetime in Azkaban is a worse fate for any of them, I think."

Severus smiled slightly at him. "You are too much like your mother, Harry," he said and let his son go. He cupped his face instead. "She too hated death. I don't think she ever did manage to go out into battle and kill."

"Is that a bad thing?" Harry asked.

"No," Severus said, and let go of Harry's face, "it's not a bad thing at all. But you are not Lily and just another person pulled into this war by your own will, but the only person capable of riding us of the dark – of Voldemort. It is essential, Harry, that you are ready to kill him when the time comes."

Harry laughed. "I want to be ready," he said. "I do, but I don't think I will. Who is ever ready to kill? Even if it is Voldemort."

"You will have to be, son," Severus said. "And I will hear no talk of my losing you to him."

At this Harry grinned. "I think," he said. "I'm starting to finally understand what it is to have a father."

Severus mumbled something unintelligible and then turned back to his cooking. He coughed a few minutes later and said, "dinner will be ready in twenty minutes or so, make yourself useful and look for something on the spell placed of that muggle girl of yours."

Harry almost laughed at his embarrassed father, but nodded and said, "Alright. Do you think you know where she could be kept?"

"I had forgotten to look into it," Severus said. "But I might have some idea where. I might need Draco's help for this of course, if that boy ever shows up again."

"Oh, he'll come back," Harry said and then added a second later, "I think he might look to you as a father figure in a way…so he'll come back. I just think he will need some time." With that said Harry turned and left the room.

-

-

-

September 28, 1998

"I think I'll go and try to talk to Kreacher," Harry told his father. "We're not getting anywhere on Artemis. I can't help but think that she might even be dead. That spell and everything else…" Harry trailed off and then ran a hand through his hair.

"We will hopefully have more luck with that. If you see Faye, tell her I wish to talk to her about a certain matter. She expressed a need to tell me something. Lucius looked rather reluctant so it must be important, but after Draco stormed off."

Harry nodded. "Sure," he said. "I'll be back in a few hours."

Harry checked to see that he had his wand and few other items that he couldn't do without, and then apparated to Grimmauld Place. After having seen Lucius on the day they told Draco the truth about his mother, Harry wasn't too keen on meeting up with him, or for that matter anyone else in the house but Faye. Mrs. Weasley, he knew, would want to talk to him about Ginny and Harry didn't in particular think that a good topic of conversation considering how bad Ginny had gotten according to Ron.

So when Harry apparated into the library he had hoped to not meet anyone, instead he ran straight into Lucius.

"Harry," he said with surprise. A second later he recovered. "I regret not remaining behind the other day to talk to you. I fear that was not a good day for any of us." He smiled slightly in a way that was meant to show his regret for what had happened.

"Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Fine," Lucius said. "And what are you doing here today?"

"I've come to talk to Kreacher, actually," Harry said. "He said a few things last I saw him that I need to get straightened out."

Lucius frowned, but Harry couldn't help but think that there was also a certain amount of relief to his expression. "But I thought Kreacher was with you. You called him away. He never came back. I thought you had kept him with you."

"No," Harry said and then sighed. "I should have seen this coming. I shouldn't have let him leave. Do you have any idea where he could have gone?"

"No idea," Lucius said. "And I didn't take my sock off and hand it to him, either."

Harry didn't know what he could say to a comment like that, so he said nothing. He knew Lucius meant it in jest, but he couldn't help but feel that maybe there was some resentment there as well. Harry had lost Lucius his house elf.

"I should get back to my…" Lucius trailed off.

"Your letter?" Harry asked.

Lucius frowned at him. "What?" he asked.

"You're holding a letter. Or at least, well, I think it is. The creases, you know. But…oh, it couldn't be mail, could it. You're supposed to be in Azkaban. Sorry, I shouldn't pry."

"Order business," Lucius said, "nothing for you to worry yourself about."

"Of course."

Lucius gave Harry a smile, one that he thought was a little shaky, and then he continued on his way, walking out of the library. Harry remained behind for a few minutes contemplating exactly what Lucius was up to. He knew it wasn't a letter from the Order. His father would have said something if the Order had begun working on something. Harry shook his head. What Lucius was doing was really none of his business. He just hoped it wouldn't get anyone in trouble.

Harry headed towards the cupboard that Kreacher had favored as his room, hoping that he would find something there to tell him where the elf had gone, but he knew he wasn't going to find anything.

And just as expected, when Harry got to the kitchen that was thankfully empty, and Harry had opened "Kreacher's room", he found the rags he had used to sleep on, and the bag that the elf and Sirius had fought so hard over. It was all there, as if Kreacher had not left. The bag full of things he had cherished because they belonged to her old mistress and most likely Regulus.

Harry grabbed the bag in a quick movement and took it with him, excitement running through him, to the drawing room. He emptied it on the nearest table and began looking through everything. But everything consisted of rather expensive Black heirlooms that had nothing to do with what Harry needed. He put everything back in the bag, wondering why, other than the fact that they belonged to the family he loved, Kreacher had kept them and fought Sirius so much over them.

Harry took a look around the room and found himself drawn towards the tapestry he and Sirius had once had a conversation over. Harry approached it, his eyes landing on the burn mark where Sirius' name should have been, and with his eyes he followed the line that connected that spot with Regulus' name. Sirius had told him his brother was dead. He had heard it from a Death Eater in Azkaban, and Harry with no reason to doubt, or care about Sirius' brother had just taken that as fact. It was fact that he now doubted, especially with Kreacher nowhere to be found.

But if Regulus was alive…Harry didn't really want to think about what it meant. He knew only that Grimmauld Place shouldn't have been his if that was the case. In fact, Sirius shouldn't have been allowed into the house back when it was still headquarters to the Order.

Harry got just a little closer to the tapestry. There was a difference, he thought, in comparison to the rest of the names belonging to Blacks that Harry knew to be deceased. But his name was also not like Narcissa's or Bellatrix's. It also wasn't like Draco's which was smaller than the rest of them and whose line was connected to Lucius' and then with a fainter line connected to Narcissa.

Without thinking much on it, Harry reached out to the tapestry and touched Regulus' name. Almost immediately Harry felt a shock go through him and then the room swirled around him.

-

-

-

Someone held back her hair, but she couldn't thank whoever it was, all she could do was throw up the small meal she had eaten the day before. The same person was rubbing circles on her back and Artemis couldn't help but remember her mother who had always done this for her whenever she was sick. She moaned as soon as she had gotten it mostly out and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. That did nothing to get rid of the taste in her mouth, and there was nothing that would in the cell she was stuck in.

Artemis groaned and fell back. The arms of Amelia, the muggle woman that had been thrown into the cell with them just the day before caught her and comforted her.

"There must have been something in the food to make you so sick, Honey," she said and let Artemis rest her head on her shoulder.

"…spell…" Artemis mumbled.

"Is she alright?" Copperfield asked. As old as he was, he had still outlived the other woman that had been in the cell with them. She had been taken a few days before, and never brought back and everyone knew it was because she had been killed. A new spell, it was said, had been used on her.

"Just a little sick," Amelia said, "the poor dear, how did she wind up here?"

"Says she's friends with 'Arry Potter," Copperfield said. "That's reason enough."

"She doesn't have magic like me thought," Amelia said confused. "How could that have happened…"

Copperfield laughed. "You involved yourself with magic for one day, and here you are, and she must have done the same. I wonder why you haven't been killed or taken yet. She's here because of the spell placed on her, and you…" he trailed off. "Well, I don't know why you're here and it's probably best I don't know."

Artemis groaned. She pushed herself away from the other muggle and tried to stand up.

"Sit down, Artemis. You can't do this to yourself. You are the one that keeps saying he'll come for us. Just sit tight and wait."

Her only answer was a groan as she crawled away from them to stare out to the other side of the room and the cells there. "I don't know who I'm kidding," she told them in a raspy voice. "I'll be dead before he comes to get us."

-

-

-

Draco knocked on the open door to Severus' office and then stepped inside. "How did you deal with it?" he asked, entering the room. "How did you deal with learning he was your son? I never understood that. Or how you can know have some sort of relationship with him."

Severus set the book he had been reading down. "How?" he said. "Well, I guess it had to do with my getting to know him."

"I don't know if I can get to know her as my mother. I have a mother and I can't help but wonder how she would feel about all of this. She doesn't know I'm not here son, does she?"

"Draco, I cannot tell you what to do. But as a parent myself, it is rather a painful experience to know your son wants nothing to do with you. Faye…well, she's suffered too much to deserve that."

Draco sighed and sank down into one of the chairs. "I do not want to hurt her or…well, I guess Narcissa. It's so weird calling her that."

"It was weird calling Harry, Harry at first. I always slipped and called him Potter," Severus told him. "And I can't say it wasn't hard. It's a relationship, Draco, like any other and it will need patience, but the only thing you can do is try. You cannot refuse to try because of Narcissa's feelings. What of Faye's?"

"I think I'm more mad at my father," Draco said. "I don't know. I just, I think he could have told mo – Narcissa – the truth. He could have told me. He didn't have to lie. But I also blame Faye. She never tried either did she? She never came forward to try and form a relationship with me or even get some sort of contact. Why now?"

Severus shook his head slightly. "Draco, I wish now you had stayed for a better explanation of this. Maybe you hold Faye in the wrong for reasons you have assumed to the true. Your mother was captured by Voldemort. I don't know the whole story, obviously, but it was around the time you were born. Your father thought her dead until quite recently. I think he believed it better to just let Narcissa be your mother.

"But then, where was she all that time? Voldemort was gone…she couldn't have been his prisoner…" Draco trailed off.

"She was," Severus said. "I helped her escape after learning she had been kept prisoner for so long. One of the Death Eaters, I never did find out who, had been given the job of making sure she was taken care of. He took the job seriously, and awaited Voldemort with Faye in his home."

This was all news to Draco who had since learning Faye was his mother, thought she had just left him and his father. He had tried to figure out exactly how Narcissa fit into the role, but now things made some sort of sense.

"I think I might have to talk to her. Get the whole story," Draco said with a frown.

"That would be best," Severus replied.

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "Can I have some parchment, and a quill?"


	24. The Tapestry

**Author's Note: **

I have to admit I'm a little disappointed at getting only 3 reviews for last chapter. It's the least amount of reviews I've gotten for this fic ever and it just kind of put me off writing a little...just because while I don't really write for anyone but myself...but obviously that didn't discourage me seeing as I have another chapter ready for you guys. I do also know everyone is busy with school and stuff...and I also know there are others reading who just don't review, so with that realization I will continue this fic...but I'd love it if you let your presence be known.

To get away from that topic...have you guys seen A Very Potter Musical? I ran into a month or so ago and it's amazing, and just felt like mentioning it here. If you haven't seen it, look it up on youtube you won't regret it.

So, this chapter is mostly the original from before i lost those chapters for this fic. I had it written in a notebook, and after a few edits it is here and ready to be read. So enjoy and please review.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty Three_**

_The Tapestry_

_September 28, 1998_

The floor underneath Harry fell away and all around him things looked as if they were melting away in the swirling mess they had become. It reminded Harry of a painting he had seen once, but that thought remained in his mind only for a moment before he began to fall.

It was a terrible feeling, but it was strange and happened too fast for Harry to even react to it, and then he was standing in the exact same spot he was before, but there were three other people in the room and they didn't seem to realize that Harry was intruding upon their conversation.

Out of the three people there, Harry was sure only of the identity of one. That was the one of the woman that sat with her back straight and her body language dripping in what Harry could only call presumptuousness by the fire, looking with obvious distaste at a young man that Harry decided had to be Regulus Black. Harry couldn't be sure exactly that this was Regulus, but knowing that Sirius in his early twenties would not have stepped foot in his childhood home, as well as Regulus' resemblance to Sirius, made this plausible.

"You are a disgrace," Mrs. Black all but yelled at Regulus.

Had Harry not recognized her before, he would have done so now at the reminder of Tonks setting off the portrait of this woman every time she entered or left Grimmauld place during the summer before his fifth year.

"A disgrace?" cried Regulus. "For what, realizing how stupid everything you've ever told me is?"

Regulus rolled his eyes at them and muttered something to himself that Harry was sure had contained Sirius' name.

"You've hurt your mother, Regulus," the third person in the room that Harry had until this point forgotten said.

He looked even closer in resemblance to Sirius than Regulus for him to not be their father, and stood behind his wife, one hand placed on her shoulder and Harry wondered to himself if it was there to restrain her or for some unspoken support.

"You are a traitor to the name Black," Mr. Black continued. I for one would like to know why you would do this to your poor mother."

Mr. Black squeezed his wife's shoulder in some show of comfort, and despite all of his supposed anger, Harry thought that Mr. Black was more reasonable about all of this than his wife. He wanted to hear Regulus out, he wanted to know the reason for his son's actions. However, Mrs. Black, was not going to allow him to get his wish, for just as Regulus began to speak, his mother stood up and cut him off.

"I had hoped," she said, "after the disgrace your brother caused, you would know better. And for a while I had hope. I believed you would do the Black name proud. I will not stand for it! You are no son of mine. I have no children. Take your things and get out. I never want to see you again."

Harry waited for Regulus to fight, to say anything to these people that called themselves his parents, but he said nothing. Instead, Regulus nodded regaly at his parents and with his head held high, he exited the room.

Harry felt the room changing. It grew and expanded, the scene before him changed and suddenly he was standing with Regulus and Kreacher at the entrance to a familiar cave.

The scene changed again not a second later and Harry felt as if he were flying, and then just as suddenly as that had begun it was over and he was on solid ground, standing in front of a familiarset of double oak doors that led to the Room of Requirement.

Regulus was nowhere to be seen, but Harry knew he had to be there somewhere. When the doors opened of their own free will, Harry stepped inside. The door closed behind him and as it did, Regulus and Kreacher appeared.

The room was full of what could only be called trash, but Harry had been in this room before, when he had helped make sure that the cabinet the Death Eaters had come through wouldn't be used again.

"You're sure it's here," Regulus said. He looked skeptically around the room.

"Oh, yes, Master," the elf said. "Kreacher followed Master's instructions. It is here."

Harry listened to them, wondering exactly what they were looking for. It was too much to hope, that this was another Horcrux.

"In this room?" Regulus asked. "It will take ages to find."

Kreacher shook his head fervently. "Oh, no, Master. It's magic will call to Master."

Now, Harry knew it had to a Horcrux. It was in this room, hiding in between all the rest of the junk that people had dropped there. Harry wondered if it was a good think that Regulus and Kreacher were after this Horcrux.

Regulus nodded at Kreacher and closed his eyes for about a minute, and then he opened them again, shook his head, and began to walk around the room, careful to not run into anything or trip over anything. Harry followed him, and waited for something to happen, but all Regulus did, was to reach into any shelf and pluck out a few books. He put them aside and continued looking through a few more shelves before he began to examine the things that at one point must have been in neat stacks, but when he found nothing, he sighed and turned to look at Kreacher.

"There's too much magic in this place," he told the elf.

"Master must concentrate. Evil, the magic must be."

Regulus didn't answer. He had closed his eyes again and this time he remained with his eyes closed for a long time. A look of pure pleasure passed over his face and Harry watched, interested. And then, a second or so later after it had disappeared, Regulus reopened his eyes. He walked past a broken grandfather clock, a few more shelves and a box full of books before he came to a stop, and as if he were smelling the Horcrux out, he tipped his head back with his eyes closed. He reached into a shelf a few seconds later and brought out a crown that at first glance looked ugly and useless but had at further consideration a certain hidden beauty,

"Kreacher, I have it!" Regulus exclaimed with a triumphant look on his face.

The scene changed before Harry could hear Kreacher's response, and Harry landed suddenly in a house made completely out of glass. It was such a strange sight, that before Harry could get used to the idea of a house made out of glass, the scene began to spin and then his surroundings began to melt. The ground underneath him fell apart and as Harry fell he felt a strange feeling start at his forehead, and then everything stopped and Harry blinked in confusion.

He was back where he had begun, before touching the tapestry, except that this time he was on the ground and a slight throbbing at his scar made him feel almost uncomfortable.

It took Hary about a minute to get his bearings before he looked at the tapestry and found that it was flowing and that magic – even without having been graced with the gift Draco and Regulus seemed to share – was practically dripping from the tapestry. Harry could not only see it, but he could feel it, and it wound around him, wanting to be taken but at the same time avoiding that very thing.

Harry watched it and made a sound of relief when it began to pll back and go back into the tapestry. Soon enough it was all gone, leaving Harry to wonder if magic felt like this all the time to Draco. But as interesting as Harry found that topic, what he had seen, he knew, was far more important. He had watched important parts of Regulus' life after Voldemort and most of it made sense but the house made of glass, at the end. Harry was also not sure if he thought that fit was a good thing Regulus had gotten two of the Horcruxes. Regulus' alliance was a tricky subject and Harry knew that there had to be a reason other than that he had seen the error of his ways, for Regulus to have betrayed Voldemort this way, especially since he had been asked to keep Faye and as far as Harry knew, Regulus had done that as long as he could.

Harry spared the tapestry one long look, and then he turned, and leaving the things he had taken from Kreachwer's room on the floor, he decided it was time to go home. His father would need to know what happened, and they could figure out their next move in finding these Horcruxes, if they hadn't been destroyed already,

With everything that had happened, Harry had forgotten he needed to tell Faye that his father needed to talk to her, so it was lucky, that as he left in search of floo powder, that Harry ran straight into Faye.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "What are you…is…is that blood on your forehead?"

Before Harry could reach up to touch his scar, which he now realized was throbbing, Faye had reached for his face and with a tissue that had seemingly come out of nowhere, she pressed it against his scar.

"Didn't notice that," Harry said. He didn't add that he had been too focused on the tapestry that had allowed him a look into Regulus' life.

Faye shook her head at him as she pulled the tissue back and examined his forehead closely. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Didn't notice the throbbing either," Harry admitted. "I think…well, Voldemort must be feeling something. Anger, maybe. I…well, that's strange, I can't seem to be able to read his mood."

"And you shouldn't be able to," Faye said, and brought out another tissue. "Just press that to your forehead until it stops, I think I might floo call your father."

"There's no need for that," Harry said. "I should go home, though. Maybe you'd come with me? Severus wants to talk to you. He said to tell you as much."

"That's acceptable," Faye said.

Harry grinned. "Alright, see you in a bit then," Harry said, deciding that maybe he better apparate.

When Harry apparated to the drawing room of Snape's house, he found to his surprise that his father was not alone in the house, but that he was in the kitchen with Draco Malfoy. And Faye was to arrive within seconds. Harry who had come to quite like Faye since first meeting her, didn't want anything to be said between the two that one or both of them would regret later. So, ignoring the increasing pain on his scar, Harry rushed to the kitchen.

"Faye is coming," he announced without much more of a greeting. "Just thought you should know, in case…"

"I know she is coming," Draco said. "I invited her."

"I guess she didn't get your owl. Or, well, at least she didn't mention it. I…" Harry didn't finish his sentence because his father who had been busy with putting some sort of ingredient in a jar, turned then and rushed towards him, bringing out a handkerchief.

"You're bleeding," he said and pressed the white material against his forehead.

"Hmm. I thought it had stopped. Anyway, I have to tell you something," Harry said addressing his father.

His father pulled his handkerchief back, but pressed it against his forehead again a second later, "that can wait, Harry," he said. "I think you might need a blood replenishing potion. Maybe pain? Does your scar hurt."

Harry nodded and decided against arguing with him about the potions. He heard Faye apparate in the other room and glanced at Draco, watching him and wondering what was going through the blonde's head at that moment.

Snape had let Harry press the handkerchief to his forehead and gone to fetch him potions, so Harry nodded towards the drawing room. Draco looked, Harry thought almost scared as if he didn't in particular want to see his biological mother, but Harry knew that it would mean the world to her if he came out there to see her.

Draco took a deep breath and nodded and then he walked out of the kitchen. Harry smiled to himself.

"I'm amazed at your maturity," his father said, surprising Harry. He had gone into the broom closet that had been turned into a potions cupboard and now holding two potions, one that looked a suspicious shade of crimson, and the other one Harry was only too familiar with, the grotesque pain potion.

"I know what he's going through," Harry said simply and removed the handkerchief from his forehead. When it looked as if the blood had stopped flowing he bunched it up into a ball and bringing out his wand, muttered a cleaning charm.

"Yes, quite," Severus replied. "Drink the pain potion. I think you might not need the blood replenishing one, but just in case I will leave it up here."

Harry nodded, glad to not have to drink at least one of the potions. He accepted the pain potion without protest and put it to his lips with a grimace before downing it.

"Now," his father said. "I'd like an explanation as to what you were doing to make your scar bleed." He crossed his arms across his chest and lifted his eyebrows.

Harry laughed. "Nothing," Harry said.

"You went looking for Kreacher, how did that go?"

"It didn't," Harry said. "I was informed by Lucius Malfoy that Kreacher has not been back since I called him away."

This comment deserved another lift of his eyebrows. "Meaning your elf has betrayed you. Left your house and not on your orders?"

Harry sighed and nodded. "Yes."

His father snorted. "I told Dumbledore the elf could not be trusted," he said. "And now it's out there with some knowledge of the Order, ready to go off and tell whoever his master is now."

"I think it's Regulus," Harry said. "Kreacher…well, he loved him. Regulus was his real master. I think. Well, I'm pretty sure Regulus is alive, or I don't know…"

"I didn't know you spoke to your elf about his previous master," his father said.

Harry sighed. "About that," he said. "That's what I want to tell you, actually. Maybe Faye could listen in on this as well. And, well, I don't know, I guess we might need Malfoy's help."

Severus looked surprised.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's his ability," Harry said.

"That means, then," Severus said, "that we might have to interrupt their bonding for the moment. I will need to speak to Faye afterwards as well."

"Yes, that's right. You never elaborated on that."

"Quite," his father said, but did not add anything else to that. Instead he walked out of the kitchen towards the drawing room.

With a shake of his head, Harry followed.

Faye and Draco stood in an awkward silence that seemed to be alleviated by their entrance.

"Harry, it appears," Severus said, "has something to tell us."

Draco said nothing, he didn't even turn to Harry in surprise at being addressed, instead he continued to stare at Faye. Faye, on the other hand, looked at Harry in surprise.

"I did wonder what you were doing at Grimmauld Place," Faye said.

"He went to find Kreacher," Severus said.

"I thought he was with you," Faye said. "Well, I take it you didn't find him, then."

Harry nodded.

"Well, I think that this conversation would be best served if we all took a seat," Severus said.

-

-

-

_September 29, 1998_

As Harry walked to Gringotts with Faye at his side, Harry couldn't help but feel stares on his back as if everyone around him knew that he was Harry Potter despite the hooded cloak he wore, leaving most of his face in shadow.

"They don't know it's you," Faye whispered.

"I just feel like they're all staring at me. Shows you just how much time I've spent away from the Wizarding World."

Faye laughed lightly. "I rather think it a good thing," she said.

Harry rolled his eyes and said nothing more as they entered the bank and headed towards one of the goblins. While harry spoke to the goblin about what they were there for, Faye took the time to look around the bank for anyone suspicious looking that could cause them problems.

"This is alright, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Of course, Mr. Potter," the goblin said. "I will take you to a back room personally."

Harry smiled at the goblin and nodded. He nudged Faye to follow the goblin with him, and Harry remembered being taken the same way last time he had been there, but this time Harry paid more attention to his surroundings. Last time, he had been reeling from Ginny kissing him, and he hadn't much cared to know what properties were now officially his, or what large amounts of money he could use. Now, however, it was imperative that he know exactly what he owned and he made sure that none of the Black properties that should have been to his name were under anyone else's.

It had been Draco's suggestion that Harry return to Gringotts, claiming that the goblins would have a sensed a change in possession immediately. Draco had explained that they were so involved in wizarding law that they could probably even tell Harry if Kreacher had another master to answer to other than him.

"Another goblin will be with you shortly, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you," Harry said and watched the goblin that had brought them there, turn and walk back.

Harry motioned to the chairs by a table that took up most of the room, and Faye nodded, sitting down. Harry sat next to her and they waited.

"I hope this helps," Harry said.

"It will," Faye said. "Draco was right in pointing out this was the place to come. The goblins will know if something has changed concerning the things left to you by your godfather."

Harry didn't respond. Faye patted his hand. "Everything will turn out alright," she said just as another goblin entered the room.

This goblin was one Harry had met before, though he could not remember his name. It was the same goblin that had taken Harry to his vault for the first time.

"Hello Mr. Potter, Ms," he said, and before they could respond, he continued, "I was informed you were here for some information as to the inheritance you received from a Sirius Black."

"Yes," Harry said. "I never knew exactly what he left me other than the London house I visited the summer of my fifth year. And now, in light of this war, I'd like to be able to know exactly what is in my possession."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," the goblin said and set a folder down on the table, sliding it towards Harry. "Everything should be in that folder."

Harry opened it and he and Faye leaned over it, pushing aside the Potter properties and instead looking through the Black ones. One of the descriptions caught Harry's eye and he pointed it out to Faye.

"Glass house," she said.

Harry set that one aside and continued looking through it, until he got to the Black vaults, and noticed a number of withdrawals written down for one of them.

"Have you taken any money out of any of these vaults?" Faye asked.

"No. I've mainly used the vault my parents left me and recently I haven't really been in need of money."

Harry turned to the goblin. "Does anyone else have access to these vaults?"

"There were five keys made. Three were returned. You hold one now, and the last was not used since the death of the youngest Black. His key was never found, but as he is dead, no one should have been able to take money from the vault with that key."

"I think there might be a misunderstanding, then," Faye said. "Unless this shows some debt still being paid."

"It's most likely that," the goblin said.

Harry looked through the rest of the pieces of parchment, and came to a stop again, when he came upon one that was labeled, house elves. Kreacher's name was written on there, but for some reason a master was not listed and Harry was positive he hadn't given the elf clothes. And if he had, his name wouldn't have had reason to still remain as one of his possessions

"Who does this elf belong to?" Harry asked, and pushed the paper towards the goblin.

The goblin frowned over it, and then looked up. "I don't know," he said slowly. "It is not possible for the elf to have another master, but…" he trailed off. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. I cannot answer these questions at this time. This is quite peculiar. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Unless…well. Mr. Black did fall into a veil, unless he is alive, there should be no confusion."

Harry nodded and allowed the goblin to lead him and Faye out of the bank.

"We have to go to the glass house," Harry said at once. "We can go right now."

"No, we can't," Faye said, shaking her head. "Your father would not approve and this is not in any way safe."

Harry rolled his eyes. He wanted to know if Regulus was alive right that moment. He had wanted to get everything over with, and Faye was just stopping him from going after what he wanted.

"We have to go back to Grimmauld Place first," Faye said. "I think your father and Draco will want to know what we found out. Regulus or another Black is definitely alive and whoever it is has more control over Kreacher."

"It has to be Regulus," Harry said. "Kreacher loved him. Now, can we go. I want to go see the glass house. I'm sure Kreacher and Regulus both will be there."

Faye nodded faintly.


	25. Plans Set in Motion

**Author's Note: **

Alrighty. So, this chapter was hard. I just couldn't get it out and I re-wrote it and re-wrote it until I finally decided I really didn't need to write a scene I wanted in it, and I could just skip over that. And here we are. And I'm still not too happy with it, but it's alright. And I know where I'm going with it, so it works. Thanks for the reviews. I tried to get back to everyone, but I may have missed a few. Anyhow, enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty Four_**

_Plans Set in Motion_

_October 7, 1998_

"We have to wait for Bill and the twins," Faye said, entering the kitchen. She slid into a chair across from Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Alright," he said. "Tea?"

"Yes, please," Faye said. "Two sugars, no milk."

Harry pushed back from the table and stood up. "I don't understand the point," he said, as he reached for a cup, "all I'm doing is going to my own house. I don't think I need a guard for that. I can protect myself."

"Your father cares about you."

"I know that," Harry said. "I just think" – Harry sighed – "I don't need Bill or the twins to protect me and get in the way. They can't know about the real reason for our going there and it just seems harder to have to keep them from finding out about the…well, you know."

Faye nodded slowly. "I understand," she said, "however, you cannot be sure of a lack of danger. This is merely a precaution. You do not know if Regulus is on our side."

Harry set the cup down and turned to look at her. "I think I know," he said. "Well, I'm almost positive he's on our side."

Faye smiled a painful smile that Harry couldn't quite figure out. "You do not know Regulus Black, Harry. A mere glimpse into his life does not make you an expert on it. Regulus was a Death Eater, Harry, and although he may have tried to leave that past behind, he still killed and joined Voldemort of his own accord. You are like Dumbledore in that respect, believing the best in people."

"He wasn't always right," Harry said, "and I am not going to say that I will be, but I will follow my gut feeling, and it is telling me that Regulus is on our side, despite all his faults."

Harry poured Faye her tea and turned to get the sugar. It was then that it happened, his scar erupted in pain. Harry grabbed hold of the chair nearest him and leaned into it, trying to override the pain. As soon as it had come it was gone, leaving behind just a throbbing that could have been mistaken for a headache.

"…Harry? Harry, are you alright?"

"Yes…yes, I'm fine."

Harry pulled back from the chair and shook his head. This was unlike any other time that his scar had hurt. It had never been so intense or short, and it should have been followed by some sort of feeling from Voldemort unless he was using occlumency against that.

"Are you sure, you're alright?" Faye asked. "We don't have to go looking for Regulus today."

"No, I'm fine," Harry said. He grabbed the sugar and went back to Faye's tea which he handed to her a few seconds later.

"Thanks," she said.

Bill and the twins chose that moment to enter the kitchen. Harry grinned at them.

"Whoa," George said.

"Harry!" Fred finished for his twin.

"What exactly happened to you?"

And it was then that Harry realized he should have put a glamour on. Since he had last seen the twins, the charms his mother had put on him had fallen and he looked far more like his father than ever before. Not having seen them since before he left for Godric's Hollow, to the twins, Harry looked as if he had gone through too many changes since they had last seen him. To Bill, Harry looked almost unrecognizable.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"You look like Snape, mate," George said and poked him arm.

"I thought he looked familiar," Fred said. "Snape. I can see that. Definitely."

Bill frowned. "Spell gone wrong or something?" he asked.

"Nah," Fred said, shaking his head. "Harry only changed a little bit since we saw him last. No…this has been going on for a while. Say, you never did tell us why this happened."

"Are you…by any chance, are you related to Snape?"

Harry turned to look at Bill and knew he couldn't lie. If only he had worn the glamour.

"I was under a glamour," he said, "for the first sixteen years of my life, and last year, on my birthday, it began to wear off, in image of my father."

Harry waited for them to understand exactly what he meant by that, and waited for their reactions: shock and horror. But this didn't happen. Instead the twins turned to each other and cried: "wicked!" and Bill did not give a reaction.

"Anyway," Faye said. "If we're all ready then we can go."

As if nothing had happened, Bill nodded. "I sent Fleur ahead of time to scout out the place. She should be getting back to me any moment." As if saying this were a signal to his wife, Fleur's patronus, a strange but beautiful creature that Harry couldn't identify entered the room.

"All clear," it said in Fleur's voice and then disappeared in the air.

With a nod to each other, the four of them apparated to the house they had dubbed The Glass House. They were just outside the rather strong ward that protected the house. Fleur, standing just within, greeted them with a wave and pecked Bill on the cheek when he approached.

They walked past the wards the Fleur had already dealt with, and they approached the Glass House. Harry walked to the door first, and before he could reach for the doorknob it opened of its own accord.

Harry looked back at the others and then continued into the foyer. It looked the exact opposite of Grimmauld place made up of lighter colors and without the presence of wooden snakes everywhere he looked. There was also a feel to the house that did not give the impression it was owned by a dark wizard. And it was also, surprisingly clean. Not one surface had a hint of dust, and although Fleur and Bill frowned over this, Harry grinned. This meant Kreacher was here, and it also meant that Regulus would be here too.

Harry stepped farther into the house, entering a drawing room that was also neat and tidy. Harry simply took the room in, noting that from the inside one would never suspect the house was made of glass. It seemed to be some form of illusion, and one that Harry couldn't find a purpose for.

"He's here," Harry said to Faye, turning to face her.

"I think you may be right," she said and then frowned. "Harry…your scar…it's…. It's bleeding."

Harry reached up with a tentative hand and brushed away the sticky, warm liquid and brought his hand down. He stared for a few seconds at his bloody fingers and then he began to feel the pain that he had been ignoring since the incident in the kitchen. The throbbing grew until Harry knew no more and everything went dark. He thought, as he fell unconscious, that he heard a voice he had never heard before call out his name.

Harry was in a familiar room that he couldn't ever remember being in. It was dimly lit by candles that had been spread throughout the room but offered only enough light for someone to see where they were walking. Harry sat in a throne like chair that had been elevated on some sort of pedestal in the center of the room. Around him were many cloaked, hooded figures. There was excitement in the air as well as fear, and a hint of curiosity.

"Welcome," Harry said in a voice that wasn't his own, but the he recognized easily as Voldemort's, "my followers. I see you are all in time today. Good. I had rather hoped to not have to punish any of you today."

None of the Death Eaters said anything. Harry looked around, scanning each and every figure, as if that alone would tell him of their betrayal to his cause.

"Today is our day," Harry continued. "We have been planning, and getting ready for this since the fall of the Ministry of Magic, and finally, we have found a way."

"What are we…I mean to say, could I ask what we are doing today?" one of the Death Eaters asked, stuttering out his question.

Harry smiled. "Hogwarts, will be mine tonight."

Whispers broke out throughout the men and women gathered, some in excitement, others in wonder, and a few in confusion. "Oh, yes, I have planned for this for months. And now, I am ready."

Harry took another scan of the room. "Today will be a day that will go down in history."

Harry stood up, and walked down from the chair, he walked towards two Death Eaters that stood close together. They both bowed to him, but he lifted his hand and made them stand.

"Severus," he said, addressing the taller of the two. "You must lead this attack. You know Hogwarts perhaps better than any of your fellow Death Eaters. My trust is upon you, and when this is over, I shall give you the school. Hurt none of the children unless they get in the way. Hogwarts will have a new headmaster before the night is out."

"Thank you for such an honor, My Lord," Severus said. "You will not be disappointed."

"I do hope that is the case, Severus," Harry said, giving Severus an inscrutable gaze before turning to the boy that stood next to him. "As for you, Malfoy, you have yet to prove your worth to me. You will kill the headmistress, and I might consider keeping you around."

Draco didn't respond. He was too shocked to say anything.

"Answer me, boy!" Harry shouted.

"Ye…yes, m-my Lord," he said.

"See that it gets done, Severus. You've been a good influence on him."

Harry turned away from the two and walked past a few more Death Eaters. He stopped twice more to give more instructions, and paused halfway through when his snake entered the room and a row of Death Eaters sprung apart, to let her through.

"_All is ready_," she hissed and approached Harry.

"_Wonderful, Nagini,_" Harry hissed back and bent to pick her up.

Nagini wrapped herself around his shoulders and then slid off of him towards a fire in the corner of the room.

Harry talked to a few more Death Eaters, and then he returned to his chair. "Go, my Death Eaters," he said. "I expect there will be no problems. The castle has been suffering slowly for months now, the wards dying, and now it is time to make our move."

-

-

-

A shock ran through the castle as the wards fell, alerting everyone within to what would happen in only a few minutes. The lack of protection the castle had suffered with the death of Dumbledore was now a clear fact to Professor McGonagall as she ran down the halls from her office to the staff room where she would give instruction to the rest of the professors on what to do. Already, Professor Flitwick had sent out an announcement for all the students to return to their common rooms, and she hoped that they would listen and try to not get into trouble.

She threw open the door to the staff room, and found that already most of the other professors were there.

"I fear tonight the school will fall," she said once she had caught her breath. "All we can do now is protect the students. I tried to the floo network but it has been disabled. Even with the wards down, apparition from Hogwarts is an impossibility. Hogwarts does not have many defenses left." She paused and looked around at all her colleagues. She had known most of these people for years, and she knew some of them would be lost on this night. "We have known this was coming for a while. It was only a matter of time. We can only hope this will turn out in a way favorable to us."

Professor McGonagall gave out orders to everyone around her, sending them to different places towards the school as she herself realized that she would need to send someone down to the Order headquarters to make anything important to the cause was destroyed.

As they all began to file out the room, she pulled Tonks aside. "Go destroy headquarters," she told her. "That is the one thing we cannot lose."

The pregnant woman nodded. "I have to contact Remus anyhow," she said. "That would be the only place where I could do it."

Professor McGonagall nodded and then watched her go. She remained in the staff room for only a few more seconds. "Albus," she said. "I hope for our sakes you were right."

-

-

-

Ron paced around the common room.

"Come sit down, Ron," Lavender called, extending her hand out to him.

Ron didn't seem to hear her and continued on, walking past the fire once and then another time. He didn't hear Lavender get up until she had wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and pressed her face against his back. He turned in her arms and wrapped his own arms around her small waist.

"I'm sorry," Ron said. "I'm just worried about Hermione. She said she was coming back today and what if she does and it's in the middle of this and…" he trailed off, but picked back up a few seconds later. "I thought we lost her once already. If something happened to her…well, I don't know what would happen."

Lavender said nothing. Instead she pulled him closer. Ron dropped his head to her shoulder and let her comfort him in the way that only she could.

The portrait hole opened and Ron pulled away, still holding Lavender against him. Professor McGonagall stepped inside, looking somberly around.

"Is everyone here?" she asked.

"I think so, Professor," Ron said.

She looked around as if to make sure. "Mr. Weasley, I am leaving you as Head-Boy in charge of Gryffindor house. Today is a day we have feared coming since the school reopened this year, and now that it is here, we must act accordingly, that is, together. Seventh years, we are counting on you to protect the younger students." With that said, Professor McGonagall nodded at Ron and then left the room.

They were all looking at Ron, now, as Professor McGonagall left the room to give specific instruction to the Fat Lady to allow no one into the common room.

"Just be calm," Ron said. "There's nothing we can do now, but sit tight and wait."

-

-

-

"That's odd," Hermione said to her mom. "The floo's not working. I mean, it's working, just not to Hogwarts."

"Maybe that a sign telling you not go back to school and just stay here with us," her mom said.

Hermione laughed. She had meant to leave early that morning, and then, the floo had been working, but her mom had convinced her to spend at least the morning with them. Hermione had agreed, and now she regretted it. And neither Bill or Fleur were there to help her figure out what the problem was. She considered for a moment going to visit Harry and trying to see if he knew anything about the floo, but didn't want to bother her busy friend.

"I guess I'll be here a little longer," Hermione finally said to her mom.

Jean Granger grinned and pulled Hermione into a hug. "That's great, honey," she said and then ran off to find her husband.

"Not staying forever, though," Hermione said. "Just until Bill or Fleur get back."

Her mother laughed. "Not, if you can't find a way to get back to school. I still stand that it's too dangerous. Can't you do school from here. Through owl post, or something."

Hermione didn't bother trying to explain to her mother once more that she wanted to go back to school because she needed to be a part of this world, and she needed to help Harry and Ron out.

Sighing, Hermione set her shrunken trunk on the coffee table and sat down to wait for Bill and Fleur hoping they would get back soon. Bill had hinted at an Order mission that wouldn't take long, and Hermione hoped they hadn't run into any complications.

Seeing her parents had been nice, and it had been the thing she needed before getting back into everything and figuring out exactly what she had missed out on, but now she was ready to get back into it. And the first thing she wanted to do was to get Ron and join Harry at whatever it was he was doing. He was still keeping things from them and Hermione was determined to get them out of him. They had done everything together at one point, and now, Hermione wanted to bring that back. She had always known in the end it was going to be him, but she wanted to be with him as well, to help him and keep him grounded. To give him someone to talk to other than Snape.

-

-

-

Harry woke up to someone arguing. Groaning, he rubbed at his eyes and sat up. He was on a couch in a nice looking drawing room and in front of him a screaming match seemed to be going on, and he was surprised to see Faye, her face almost red, yelling at Regulus and Regulus looking more composed but yelling back.

"Right, well," Harry said, standing. "If either of you could put your little spat on hold, I could maybe tell you about the attack Hogwarts is currently going under."

They all stopped to look at him.

"What?" Bill asked, stepping forward from spot at the door.

"I fell into his mind. I witnessed a meeting of his Death Eaters. He was sending them to Hogwarts to take over the school. I'm sure this was all real. We have to do something. I don't know…" Harry trailed off and ran a hand through his hair, and then finally took in Regulus.

He looked almost exactly like Sirius, but also not like his brother at all, and Harry thought that was only because the Sirius he had known had been only a shadow to the Sirius he once was. He had been gaunt and worn, and his once good looks had gone. Regulus hadn't been in Azkaban, however, and although he was close in age to Sirius, he looked at least ten years younger than Sirius had.

Regulus was looking at him, watching him, and Harry wondered just how long he had been passed out in the vision for Regulus to not be used to his presence, or whether he and Faye had been fighting the entire time.

"Harry Potter," he said at last. "I must say I expected someone quite different. You look nothing like your father."

Harry almost laughed, because he actually did look quite a lot like his father, especially of late.

"Although you have your mother's eyes…" he trailed off.

The twins, who had apparated the moment Harry mentioned Hogwarts, appeared again.

"We can't floo into Hogwarts. The wards must have fallen and with them the makeshift passage through the floo we've been using. I think our entire system has fallen. It'd be treacherous to apparate there without knowing exactly what's going on. The same with a portkey or flying, not unless we knew what's happening there."

Harry frowned. His father was there, and so was Draco. Draco who had been told to kill Professor McGonagall. And he had no way of contacting them. Harry sighed. The students were going to be hurt though, not as long as they remained in their common rooms. If only he could get word to Ron to make sure that this happened. All Voldemort wanted was Hogwarts. He wanted to have control of it and while that was a terrible thing, he wasn't looking for a battle, he wasn't looking to kill everyone in Hogwarts, just those that got in the way and Professor McGonagall was one of those people. He counted on that, and he wanted Draco to finally prove himself.

"He's not out to kill everyone in the castle," he told them. "He just wants Hogwarts for himself. We can't do anything but let this happen."

Everyone looked at him full of surprise.

"All we can do is hope they let him, and then they'll just have to wait until we strike. And it all begins, with his soul."

None but Faye and Regulus seemed to understand what he was on about, but only Faye showed that she understood, while Regulus looked at him, his emotions hidden, with a question waiting for burst out of him.


	26. Just Like Adding Fuel to the Fire

**Author's Note: **

I for one am excited. This chapter was hard to write, I admit. So many angles to take it from. I think I used up an entire notebook just trying to figure out how to write it. Anyhow, I did, finally. And it sets everything into place. I hope this chapter gives you a little more of Regulus which all no doubt want, and I hope you like Regulus and my version of him as well as the twists I have added into this chapter. I hope to get the next chapter planned if not written by tuesday. Anyhow, hope everyone's having a good holiday. Enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty Five_**

_Just Like Adding Fuel to the Fire_

_October 8, 1998_

The house was different. This was the first thing Regulus noticed. It wasn't the place he had known as a child, strange, sometimes fearsome. It was just another house now – one that still held, hidden in its walls, dark memories. Magic throbbed through the house, loud and distracting, but Regulus could ignore this in comparison to Harry Potter's magic. The potion was wearing off now, and he could almost taste the power that surrounded the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Different to how you remember it?" Potter asked, coming up behind him.

Regulus nodded. "Quite," he said and stepped farther into the almost unfamiliar house. "I never thought," he added, as his eyes perused every inch of wall that had once held a painting, "I would ever come back here and to see it so changed is…just a bit disconcerting."

"You brother said something like that," The oldest of the Weasley brothers said. "it was harder for him with the house having not been changed since he had last seen it." He smiled at Regulus and then turned to Harry. "I have to go check on Hermione's parents and possibly Hermione. She might be at Hogwarts now, but she may not. Her mother wanted her to stay longer. If she's there, I'll bring her along, she'll want to be involved. Fleur and I will also go with news on what's happening to the other houses. We should have a meeting tonight. Someone has to contact Remus…Tonks was in the castle…"

Regulus stopped listening and continued farther into the house, in his head counting the number of things that still remained the same. There were a lot, but overshadowed by the changes. Regulus didn't know whether to wish that, that too had been changed or not, as memories of his childhood tried to work themselves into his thoughts.

A false happiness had been in place during his childhood, his parents acting like Sirius' already obvious rebellion did not exist, all the while punishing him, and Regulus, ignored by his parents while they made an attempt at fostering certain values into Sirius that would never take. He, trying to follow what they wished for Sirius, always trying to make them see that he could be what they wanted, and wishing his elder brother wouldn't disappoint them so. He and Sirius, playing together and doing other brotherly things; Sirius trying to get him on his side; Sirius coming home for Christmas during his first year at Hogwarts and his parents yelling at him, and Sirius leaving as fast as he had come. That Christmas had been the one that changed everything. Regulus almost fell into the memory as he entered the drawing room, but he stopped short, his eyes drawn to the overly magical tapestry that had not always been so.

"That's how I knew you were alive," Harry said. "I touched it, and I witnessed a few memories, concerned with you, mostly. The last one I saw was of the glass house. I just knew you were there."

Regulus nodded and stepped closer. "I'm surprised it's still here. Everything else…"

"Yes, I know," Harry said. "It won't come off. It's part of the house, I think." Harry paused and looked at him, as if waiting for him to say something, before he continued, "I saw a few other memories," he ventured. "You know what I want, what I need."

"Yes," Regulus said, but did not add more. He waited, watching Harry. He would not be the one to bring them up.

"I need to destroy them. I need to destroy him," Harry said. "Dumbledore took care of one, I inadvertently destroyed another. We found one, the Snake will go last, he always keeps it near him, and you have two."

"Is that how many he's made?"

"According to Dumbledore," Harry said and turned away from the tapestry, walking to the fireplace that he knew only worked now for fires. "I need to know if you destroyed the ones you got."

Regulus shook his head. "I couldn't figure out a way without dying. I tried and I almost died. It was a hard recovery and in the process I think I figured out what I needed. I've been researching for years, trying to understand everything about them." He took a deep breath and looked at Harry, directly into his emerald eyes. "The thing is, his are different. They were strengthened, made harder to destroy."

"Wonderful," Harry said and laughed. "Just wonderful."

"Yes, well…" Regulus trailed off.

"And how…" Harry began.

Regulus cut him off, "do not ask me that!" he snapped and moved closer to the tapestry, reaching to touch it, but stopping less than a centimeter away from it. "This is the only thing I ever liked about this house. As a child I was always just called to it. It was the most interesting thing. While I was away at school I missed this the most. It wasn't until my third year I realized why – that was when I discovered my gift. The magic surrounding it, it's strong and it's appealing to a person like me. It's not dark or light magic, it's neutral in that aspect and it wishes to be released. All of us have neutral magic, and that is the most appealing kind. This kind of magic harms no one and not one witch or wizard has purely that. It is the most powerful magic out there, and the Black family was once known for their neutral magic."

He turned back to Harry. "You have a lot of neutral magic. More than I've seen in anyone, and just that makes you the perfect person to do this. It will not kill you, but it will harm you irreparably and that it is not something anyone on the side of the light could take."

Harry didn't respond. Instead he just stared at the older man that looked too much like Sirius for his liking.

"So, I will not be telling you how to destroy them. Not today. Not when there are other things to worry about."

Before Harry could respond Faye entered the room, looking worried. "Oh, there you are, Harry," she said and rushed towards him. "He's gone," she said. "I searched everywhere. His notes, everything is gone. I'm afraid there is more to be worried about now, than ever before."

"Gone?" Harry asked. "Would he put himself in danger like that?"

Faye smiled tightly. "Oh, Harry," she said. "You don't know him half as well as I do, and if I know him like I think I do, it is beyond obvious Lu—" she looked at Regulus "-Lucien would have contacts on the other side."

"So what does this mean?" Harry asked.

He was ready to crawl back into his bed and never come back out. He wanted to, badly, so as to not think of the worst thing that could happen now that Hogwarts had been taken over by Voldemort with Lucius Malfoy possibly on his side.

"What do we do, now?"

"You become the leader you were always supposed to be," a new voice said and Hermione entered the room. She walked to stand next to Harry and took his hand. "And you'll have to realize it will only get harder before it ends."

-

-

-

Draco pressed himself against one of the walls of the two buildings he stood between. He had never imagined, Hogsmeade overrun by Death Eaters. They were everywhere. Taking a drink in the pubs, taking over the few homes around for their own uses. It wasn't enough, it seemed, that Hogwarts had been taken over. They needed to have the all wizarding village too. Draco peaked out, cautiously to see if there was anyone out there, patrolling or worse, looking for him.

There was no one, or so it appeared. Draco pulled his cloak tighter around him, and made sure his hood hid his face in shadow, before he stepped out, wand in hand, walking at a brisk pace to the end of the wards that he had seen Bellatrix set up. So much depended on his getting out. Harry Potter needed him, or at least the information he held. After all, he had lost his value in the last twenty four hours. He was, now, a traitor and a coward. He could no longer take over for Snape as the Order's spy, and he was a wanted man.

As he neared the end of the ward, Draco cursed his inability to kill. His father had always said he was weak. If he had just killed McGonagall it would all be alright, but he hadn't had the guts. There had been something in how she looked at him that had made him falter, and then Alecto had pushed him away and done the task without as much as a blink and then Draco had run.

He shook the thoughts away and raised his left arm at the ward. Things had happened so fast that his signature would not have been taken off. Voldemort probably didn't know about his betray yet either, but it would only be a matter of time. The ward recognized him and parted and as soon as Draco had done past it, he apparated back to Snape's home hoping that Harry was there back from searching for Regulus Black.

As his luck would have it, the house was empty. Potter hadn't come back and there were no signs that said otherwise. The cup that Snape had broken when his mark began to burn was still on the floor, and so were the biscuits he had been holding at the time.

Draco waved his wand and the cup put itself back together, and the biscuits were directed to the nearest trashcan. He took off his cloak and dropped on a chair. Where would Potter be? he had been to Grimmauld Place only once, and knew how to get there, but he couldn't be sure that Potter would be there, or go there for that matter, and he had no idea where the glass house was if he was still there. But there were Order members at Grimmauld Place, right? Wasn't his father staying there? Maybe he could go there and talk to him.

Draco groaned. He sank down into the chair he had placed his cloak on and then he dropped his face in his hands. He wasn't cut out for this. He didn't want to go face Potter and tell him that he wouldn't be seeing his father until he finished what he had been born to do. He didn't want to be the person that had to probably stop Potter from doing something stupid. He wanted to be the observer that watched from afar. He had his own problems to deal with. His two mothers and his father's lies.

Draco stood up and threw his cloak back on.

-

-

-

"What makes you think, you deserve this, Snape?" Bellatrix asked.

She had stormed into the headmaster's -- his office a few minutes before and with her arms crossed she looked at Severus angrily.

"Perhaps the fact that I killed Dumbledore," Severus replied calmly.

"I killed McGonagall," Bellatrix said. "I deserve to be in charge of the school. I alone care for him. I alone know his wishes and desires."

Severus laughed and continued to move about the office, waving his wand at things that had once belonged to Minerva McGonagall. He intended to keep them, of course, in memory of his old colleague.

"I do!" Bellatrix insisted.

"Keep telling yourself that, Lestrange," Severus said. "And now, I would appreciate it if you left me alone so I could perhaps add to the changes the Dark Lord wishes to implement."

Bellatrix huffed. "I know you, Snape," she said, "And I know you're not on the Dark Lord's side, and one day you'll be found out, and then we'll see who will be praised." She smiled and then turned and walked out of the office.

Severus sighed and dropped himself into the nearest chair. It wasn't fair. He wished Bella had been asked to be the headmistress of Hogwarts, had that been the case he would have been allowed to leave the castle and come and go as he pleased. For a moment he wondered if this was another test of Voldemort's to prove he was a traitor. He hoped not.

A cough from behind him startled him, and Severus turned, the previously empty portrait that belonged to Dumbledore now contained the old headmaster and he smiled at Severus dotingly.

"It is good to see you, Severus," the painting said. "I would ask you to tell me what has happened, but I have seen." His smile disappeared and instead he took on a grim look. "You will take care of the children of course. Remember always that Harry is strong and he will not need you as much as you may think. Do not compromise your position, no matter what."

Severus sighed but said nothing "He looks too much like me," he said a few minutes later. "Too much for Voldemort not to realize immediately. And we've lost Draco as a spy, now. I can't help but think..."

"No," Dumbledore said and shook his head.

Severus smiled tightly. "I hope, Albus, you are right in all these matters."

The portrait didn't reply and instead walked promptly out of its frame. Severus looked after it and then turned back to the office. He had never pictured himself as headmaster of Hogwarts, and yet there he was.

So much had happened so fast, and it was only now just getting to him. He was in charge of a school with children he desperately needed to protect from his fellow Death Eaters, and more than that, three professors were dead, killed protecting the very students that were now in his hands. And Harry knew nothing of what was happening.

-

-

-

"I'm so glad you're here," Harry said.

Hermione smiled slightly. "I'm surprised I offer you so much comfort."

"You're my best friend. You shouldn't be surprised. I've missed you more than I can express.

Harry and Hermione had retired to the library while Faye and Bill told everyone available that they would need to have a meeting for a game plan. Regulus was off with Kreacher looking around the house and Harry thought that it would be good for him. He was still anxious to get Regulus back into a room alone with the remaining Horcruxes, but knew it would have to wait with everything going on. In the meanwhile, he knew he needed the distraction that Hermione offered.

He hadn't realized just how much he missed Hermione until he had had her in front of him earlier. He had seen her for only a few days after she had come back from her coma, and then she had been gone. In those days he had told her about the prophecy and his father and her reaction had put him out enough to not really think about how much he needed her in his life, but now he was realizing that with his father gone, he needed her more than ever.

"I know how to destroy Voldemort," Harry said on impulse. He didn't look at her and instead stared straight ahead, waiting for a response. When she said nothing he turned to look at her.

"I thought the killing curse," Hermione said, "and love? Didn't Dumbledore always say love was enough?"

"I wish it were," Harry said and reached for her hand again. Hermione let him take it. "If it was enough my mother could have gotten rid of him with her love for me."

Hermione frowned and twisted in her chair so she was fully facing him. "What is it, Harry?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but it was just too much for me to handle, and my father and Dumbledore didn't think it would be a good idea to share this with everyone, but now, now everything is different, and I just don't think I have it in me to hide this from you or Ron anymore. But seeing as Ron isn't here and you are, I'll have to tell you..."

"Harry, Harry, stop," Hermione said with a laugh. She placed one of her hands on his forearm. "You're ranting."

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly. "I just don't know how..."

Hermione patted his forearm and then pulled away. "I don't pretend to understand everything that has happened. I haven't been around to see the changes you have, but Bill and Fleur have filled me in on a lot of this stuff, and whatever this is, I'm sure I'm not going to understand most of it, but I can try and I'll be by your side on whatever it is."

Harry smiled. "Your loyalty is astounding, and I wish now I had involved you more before. It was too dangerous. Or well, I convinced myself I couldn't tell you anything because of that." He took a deep breath.

"Voldemort cut his soul in seven pieces," Harry said, after taking only one breath.

"Can a person do that? Just split their soul. How's he still alive. What does this mean?" Hermione's previously calmness had vanished and was replaced by a worried look on her face that Harry was actually quite familiar with.

"It means, Granger, that the Dark Lord is immortal," Draco Malfoy said coming up behind her. "I was told I'd find you here, Potter."

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed, and for a moment forgot what she had just learned. And then she was up out of her chair and throwing herself into his arms. "You're alright!" She pulled back and held him by the shoulders at arm length, looking him over.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Draco said and pulled away. "What is not fine is what happened today." He turned away from her and addressed Harry once more. "I have a message from your father."

Harry who had been looking from Draco to Hermione, shook his head. "And what is it?"

"He said to tell you to find your grandmother's painting."

"My grandmother's painting?" Harry asked. "I have no idea what she looks like. What does he need that for?"

At the same time, Hermione said. "Brilliant. Perfect way to communicate."

"Alright, then," Harry said. "Anything else?"

"Only that he does not want you to worry about him or the castle. He wanted me to say you have your task and you'll need to accomplish it. And now, I am off in search of a bed."

"If you don't mind me asking," Harry said before he left. "What are you doing here. I highly doubt you could have left undetected even if you proved yourself to him."

"I didn't kill her," Draco said. "I ran."

Harry nodded and watched him go. He was walking with a slight limp, and Harry doubted that Draco would complain about it or ask for something for the pain. This night had changed Draco unlike any other.

"You can go see to him, if you wish. I know how much you must have missed him," Harry said, not looking at Hermione. "It's obvious when you look at him. I have to go find that painting anyway. We can talk later."

"No, he needs to be alone. I wouldn't know what to say. I want to know more. I need you to finish telling me. I'll come with you."

Harry nodded absentmindedly. He desperately wanted to go after Draco to ask him about everything that had happened at Hogwarts. He gathered bits and pieces himself through the vision, and somehow Draco had known that he knew, but he needed details and he wanted to know more. Was McGonagall dead despite Draco saying he hadn't killed her? More than that he wanted to know exactly what was going on between his best friend and Draco Malfoy. Once, he had imagined them as friends, and now he thought he saw something more.

Harry almost laughed out loud, here he was with so much going on around him, and all he could wonder about was what his best friend was doing with Draco Malfoy. Nothing could have happened between them. She had been unconscious for four months, and he had been on the run. This was the first time they were seeing each other since the day she had woken up, and that day he had been present, and she had barely noticed Draco, and now they were talking as if nothing had happened, as if Draco hadn't almost been the one to kill Dumbledore. Her reaction to the blond Slytherin implied they had talked since she had woken up.

"Yes, alright," Harry said to Hermione, getting up. "We'll have to hurry. Come here."

Harry took her arm. "I'll have to apparate us in. It'll be quicker this way. Just hold on to me."

She nodded. Harry turned, picturing his father's office.

"I hate apparition," Hermione said with a groan. "Always leaves me a little sick to my stomach."

"I've gotten used to it," Harry said. "Although, I'm not a big fan either. When I had to apparate with Dumbledore back to the castle, it was the worst moment. I thought I was going to make more damage to him. Anyway, that's all in the past. I guess it has to with everything, however."

"His soul, Harry," Hermione said. "Split in seven you said."

Harry nodded. "Scary thought, isn't it?" He grinned at her. "All of last year, those meetings with Dumbledore, it was about my learning more about Voldemort, about how to get rid of him. It all lead to his telling me that Voldemort is immortal. My mother's love was enough to kill him, to destroy him body and soul, but because of what he did on his path to becoming Lord Voldemort, well, that changed everything."

"His splitting of his soul," Hermione supplied.

"Yes," Harry said and walked to behind the desk. He pulled open the first drawer on the left side and continued, "It's a complicated piece of dark magic. I obviously don't know how it's done. I do know, it requires that you kill someone, a sacrifice if you will, to finish the ritual of breaking your soul in two." Harry looked up, and closed the drawer.

"And what does one do," Hermione said, "once they have split their soul, where does that fragment go?"

"Ultimately that is the problem," Harry said. "Would you bring me that box over there?" Harry pointed to the other side of the room where a cardboard box sat. Harry opened another drawer and pulled out some rolls of parchment. He dropped them on the desk.

"Where do you want it?"

"The desk is fine," Harry said. "Anyway, the thing is he created seven. he split his soul seven times, because seven is a magical number. And he concealed each fragment of his soul in an object, and then he hid it. Voldemort did not die the day he went to Godric's Hollow only because his body was the only thing destroyed. His soul could not be destroyed when it wasn't all there."

Hermione frowned. "So then you would have to find each piece and destroy it."

"Precisely."

"Oh," she said. "I'm guessing this won't be easy then. Tracking each of them down. You'll need all the help you can get on this. Have you started looking? Do you even know where to begin? And how to destroy them once we have them. Oh, Harry, I didn't think there would be much more than just the killing curse to end this."

Harry laughed. "You don't need to worry yourself sick over this. We've already taken care of it."

"You mean you've found them. All of them?"

Harry smiled. "Yes," he said. "That was what Dumbledore was doing all of last year. It was what we went to do, but the one we were getting, it was a fake. All of that trouble that happened afterward, the reason Dumbledore was dying was this. These Horcruxes. He found one last summer, a ring, it belonged to Slytherin once. Anyhow, when he destroyed it, he was injured. My father tried to repair the damage, but he could only give him some time. And I destroyed one back in our second year. The diary, Tom's diary. That was one."

"So that's two down," Hermione said excitedly. "But what about the others?"

"Dumbledore was sure," Harry said as he put back everything he had taken out of the desk. "He was sure his snake, Nagini is one. My father found one with Draco, Hufflepuff's cup."

"Three more, then."

"One is the soul in his body," Harry said. "The other is Slytherin's locket. That one was the one Dumbledore and I were supposed to get. There was a note inside and it lead me to the locket and a diadem. I don't have them yet, but when it comes time to destroy them, they will be there."

"Then, what is the problem? You destroyed one, once, won't these be the same?"

"Dumbledore died destroying one. It was special circumstances, Hermione, and I don't think I could get basilisk venom anywhere." He opened yet another drawer. "Aha, here they are."

"What?"

"The cup," Harry said, and reached for it.

Hermione walked around the desk and reached for it. "It doesn't look special in any way," she said and wrapped her hand around it.

Harry let go of the cup and in the split second when his fingers had ceased to touch the small goblet, it burned fire red and Hermione screamed and her legs collapsed underneath her. Harry caught her before she reached the ground. The horcrux fell out of her hand and Harry let it roll away, because at that moment his scar began to burn and it could have matched the intensity of the last time it had burned. And without really knowing how, Harry was sure that Voldemort knew that he knew about the horcruxes.


	27. Harry's Grandmother

**Author's Note: **

Thank you all for the reviews. You guys are wonderful. Anyhow, I have the next chapter and a half typed up and ready to go as soon as I get some editing done. I have also managed to plan out the rest of the fic...another seven to ten chapters or so to go, but we can never be too sure about that. I don't want to make this fic sooo much longer than it's prequel or sooo much shorter. Anyhow, I had fun writing this chapter. I think because I finally got the plot back into play, the original one that was supposed to be involved in the one fic I was going to write back when I started.

Hope you guys all enjoy this. Please review...

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty Six_**

_Harry's Grandmother_

_October 8, 1998_

Harry gently set Hermione down, and holding one hand to his forehead, he crawled after the cup. Taking off his cloak, he picked it up, cradled in the material. He set it down on the desk, and then walked back to Hermione who had yet to open her eyes. His scar's initial burning had now faded and Harry feared what this meant. Voldemort knew. He was sure about it, and although he couldn't quite figure out how he had found out, but Harry knew they would have to destroy them as soon as possible before Voldemort moved. After all, Voldemort had no idea he had everything but the snake.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, and nudged her shoulder.

Hermione groaned and turned slightly. Her eyes opened to slits. "What...what happened?"

"I don't know, but are you feeling alright?"

"Just a headache, it'll go away. Nothing to worry about. And..." she paused, lifting the hand that had come in contact with the horcrux, "well my hand. I can't feel anything on it."

The palm of her hand was a deep shade of red, the skin burned off. Harry took her wrist and brought it closer for his perusal.

"This looks bad. Can you move it? Is it that you lost feeling in your hand entirely?"

"I can feel my hand," Hermione said. "I just don't feel pain. The burn -- it's like it isn't there."

Harry having learned as much as he could about healing from Remus last school year, knew how to treat a burn, even one this bad, but he couldn't quite figure out why it had happened. He didn't want to do anything about the burn until he knew how she had gotten it, and exactly what it meant.

"We'll have Faye look at it," he told Hermione. "For now, just don't use that hand. I'll have to find that painting and then we can go. We'll need to hurry."

"Harry, what happened? What's wrong?"

"He knows," Harry said and walked to the only picture in the room. "Hello, I'm looking for a portrait of my grandmother."

The woman in the painting blinked at him. She was a plain woman, with dark eyes. Her brownish hair was severely pulled back and she wore an expression of annoyance. "And what makes you think I know your grandmother, boy!"

"I was told there was a painting of her in this house. Well, I assumed it would be here."

The woman looked him over. "Who are you?" she asked at last.

"Harry Potter. Well, Snape, I guess. Severus Snape is my father."

She frowned at him. "He never told me he had a son," the woman said. She was looking at him differently now. "You do look a lot like him, I must say. You must have your mother's nose."

"Who are you?"

"Your grandmother, boy," she replied. "And I will have to have a talk with your father about his not telling me about you. That man has the worst communication in anyone I have ever seen. Where is he, anyhow?"

Harry almost laughed. How could he have not known she was his grandmother. She was so much like his father. It was all in her manner of speaking, the way she pursed her lips.

"Hogwarts," Harry said. "He told me to find you. I assumed it was so I could pass on something to him through you. Updates on what is happening."

"Alright, well, shall I go tell him you have found me?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, that would be perfect," he said and smiled. "I do hope to get to know you better at a later time."

"Yes, yes," she said. "I am amazed at your not knowing who I am. Severus really has failed to share with you his family history."

"He only just learned about me a little over a year ago," Harry said. "I don't think he was thinking about sharing the news."

Harry's grandmother huffed. "That boy was raised better," she said, turned in her portrait and disappeared.

"Well, she was lovely," Hermione said. "I think I understand where Snape gets his personality."

Harry laughed and reached for the painting, taking it off the wall. He grabbed one of his father's bags and put it inside one of them, followed by the wrapped up cup.

"Come on, Hermione, we have to go."

She nodded and stood up.

Harry slung the bag onto his shoulder securely and then wrapped an arm around Hermione. He smiled at her, and then apparated.

-

-

-

"I don't know what to do about it," Faye said, looking up at Harry. "It is not something I have seen before. I almost don't think it's a burn."

Hermione sitting on the love seat, with her hand extended towards Faye, bit her lip. "It had happened after I touched the Horcrux, but only when I did it. Not when Harry touched it. What could have made it hurt me?"

"I have no idea," Faye said. "I don't know much about them. We'll just have to wait and see if anything else happens. I don't want to risk a potion."

"It's a good thing, I'm not in any sort of pain," Hermione said and flexed her hand.

Faye patted her arm, and then turned to Harry. "They should all be here soon. Remus said he'd be late."

Harry nodded "I'll go check on the portrait."

Harry didn't know his grandmother's name. He knew only that it was her family's house that he and his father now resided in, and not his grandfather's. He knew that his father was a half-blood, and that his father had been a muggle. But he didn't know much more, and he had never thought to ask for more. He had seen glimpses into his past, seen this woman let herself be beaten by a drunken husband, but Harry didn't know the entire story.

He had left the painting in his bag, Hermione's hand being a priority, and now, taking it out, Harry was nervous. He was meeting his grandmother through a painting and he didn't know how he was expected to act. When he brought her out, she wasn't there, but the background she had been painted was, and Harry paid attention to it, for the first time.

It was his room. It looked only slightly altered, the bed had been moved against another wall, the walls were the same color, but had paintings and mirrors hanging from them. The curtains were different, but the window seat on which she must have sat, and the outside grounds remained the same.

"It's about time," his grandmother said, entering the painting. "It is not polite to leave one in a bag, you know."

Harry smiled. It was such a grandmotherish thing to say.

"I have spoken to your father," she continued. "And although I'd like to talk to you about a number of things, what he has to say is far more important."

"And..."

"Professor McGonagall, and Sprout are dead. They have been replaced by Bellatrix, and Alecto. Tonks dissapeared and was replaced by Dolohov. He said Hogsmead has been taken by the Death Eaters. There is no way in or out of the castle without the Dark Mark. The students are fine, as long as they follow the rules. He has been named Headmaster, but he fears that even with the other Professors helping the students and he with so much power there won't be much he can do to keep Mr. Weasley out of eventually meeting Voldemort. And then his cover will be blown. Voldemort himself has not stepped inside Hogwarts yet, but it is only a matter of time."

Harry didn't know what to say. His father was stuck at Hogwarts, stuck watching as his old students were probably tortured by the likes of Bellatrix and Alecto. he was stuck, waiting for the day that Voldemort chose to grace them with his presence. And Ron.... This is what they had feared all along. Voldemort would know and his father would end up dead.

"The map," Harry said. "Tell him. Tell him I understand. I won't go Gryffindor on him and attempt a harebrained scheme to save him. Tell him to get Ron out of Hogwarts if he can. He can use the map. It's in the Room of Requirement. It's an old piece of parchment, useless, but he should know the password. Tell him to use that, and just...tell him I care about him. I care about him a lot and that he better not die on me. Tell him, we're finally just getting close...that it can't end like this. That I need him."

Mrs. Snape, smiled sadly. "He cares for you too. Loves you, I think. The way he looked. It wasn't his stoic self. He cares."

"Thank you," Harry said. "I wonder. What is your name?"

"Eileen, Harry."

"I just wanted to know. I've never had a grandmother."

"I've never had a grandson," she replied and then walked out of the painting.

Harry smiled slightly and hoped for the best. A scenario where Ron wouldn't get hurt. Where his father would come out alive, and where everything went according to plan. And now, he had to find Regulus and this time he would tell him how to destroy the Horcruxes.

-

-

-

The box that held the diadem and the locket sat in front of him in the kitchen table. Next to it was a cup of tea that Kreacher had handed him when he had taken a seat. Regulus reached for it, and held the cup in both his hands for a long moment before bringing it to his lips. He had known how to destroy them for two years now. Two long years, spent researching for anything that would point him to another of them. Two years during which he had debated with himself on telling Dumbledore everything. And now, he was in a house with a boy that had one of the four remaining Horcruxes. A boy who knew where the last one would be, and a boy powerful enough to destroy them. Even rooms away from him, he could perceive his magic.

"Kreacher must clean, Master," the elf said. "House has been left without Kreacher."

"Go ahead," Regulus said. "I'll be alright."

The elf gave him a dubious look and then walked away. How was it that this elf represented to him more of a parent than either of his actual parents? This elf that had only cleaned after him, and followed his orders, even to Voldemort. A slave to him, he had been forced to give up the elf, once he realized his brother was out of Azkaban. Keep everyone believing he was dead. He had known, after all that Voldemort would come back. It was a matter of time.

"You need to tell me," Harry Potter said, as he entered the room. His expression was serious now. "We need to destroy them as soon as possible and you need to tell me, now. Voldemort knows. I don't know how. But he knows we know. He knows we're out to destroy them."

"Brilliant," Regulus said and took another sip of his tea. "He used blood to strengthen the Horcruxes. The blood of your friend Faye. She's special, you know, her blood in particular. I spoke of magic earlier, neutral magic. Faye is purely neutral. Tainted now, after spending so many years with Death Eaters, and made pure by her mother and father.

"She's actually far too tainted now, but that worked for him, for his kind of magic. At the time he used her blood she was fully neutral. The most powerful witch I had ever met next. And through a ritual, Voldemort used her blood, her very magic as a layer of protection around each Horcrux."

Harry frowned. "I don't understand. What does this have to do with anything? You said I was powerful. Powerful enough to destroy them."

"And you are," Regulus said. "Very much so. But destroying even one will kill you because of her magic. The only way to destroy them is her blood, spilled over each one, and then the combination of a destructive force and a building one. The connection of two kinds of magic."

"But the diary," Harry said. "I destroyed it with only Basilisk venom."

"A fang that had your blood, and I believe phoenix tears might have mingled in," Regulus said. "Your blood would have been innocent enough then. It helps that your mother was muggle-born."

"What does that have to with it? That shouldn't matter, should it?"

Regulus was not the one to answer. "Of course it matters," Draco Malfoy said. "It matters a lot."

"And would you know about this?"

"I know magic," Draco said and sat down across Regulus. "I understand the connections of magic to blood. It's part of my gift."

Harry snorted and walked the length of the kitchen table. "So, what are we supposed to do then?"

"Faye's blood is tainted, tainted by Voldemort. And she is very unique. The only mudblood that can speak parseltongue that I've heard of, and I have been searching for one for years."

"Is that all you need?" Harry asked laughing. "And would her age matter?"

"What do you mean?" Regulus asked at the same time that Draco said: "The younger she is the better."

"Well, Faye isn't the only one. Imogen Copperfield. She's a second year in Gryffindor. She's a muggle-born that speak to snakes."

"Then, we need Imogen here, now."

-

-

-

Hermione reached over and took Harry's hand. She knew it was probably a bad idea using her hurt hand, but Harry needed the comfort, and her other hand was already occupied holding Draco's. She wondered for a moment who needed her support more. Harry who was clearly not there and deep in thought about the Horcruxes he refused to bring up during the meeting, or Draco who thought himself useless now that Voldemort considered him a traitor. Across the table, Regulus Black raised his eyesbrows at her, amusedly and Hermione didn't want to know what he was thinking.

The table was full, not one chair was empty, and even then they were still missing key people that made up the Order of the Phoenix. Some of them were out there working on their own missions. Others, gone forever to this group of people. At the head of the table was Kingsley, next to him a very agitated and sick looking Remus. Hermione wondered what had happened to him, and why Tonks, sitting as far away as possible from him, kept shooting him glares, her hands constantly touching her very pregnant belly.

"The course of action is not to run headlong into a trap," Arthur Weasley said. "Hogwarts is too protected, too hard to get into, and if there is even a little rip in his wards, it is his invitation for all of us to come and die."

Regulus made a motion for Harry. Harry shook his head and Hermione wondered exactly what had gone on in this very room before the meeting that had the three men so agitated.

"Potter, if you won't do it," Draco began.

Harry stood up and Hermione let go of his hand at once. He gave her a look for what could have been a second, and then glared at Draco. "We need to get Ron and a few other members of the DA out of the castle," he said. "They will compromise us all with anything they say."

"Voldemort is a legillimens, we all know it," Faye picked up from where Harry left off. "He will know at once, anything they know about the Order, Voldemort will know, and that will leave us vulnerable. This would equal losing our spies within his ranks."

"The question remains, how will we get them out?" Remus asked, and for once they fell into silence.

Harry sat down again and Hermione reached for his hand. He turned to her and smiled. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and he looked away, his eyes locking with Regulus'. Hermione looked away from them, wondering exactly what could be going on between the two of them. She looked to Draco, but he shrugged.

"Draco, how bad is it?" Tonks asked, breaking the silence.

Everyone turned towards Draco including Harry and Regulus, waiting for his response.

"It would be easier to enter the castle than leave it," Draco said. "I left at a good time. The wards had just been put up. My signature hadn't been taken off. It was a good time, but now. Everything is probably stronger, more guarded. The only time there could be an opening would be when Voldemort is at Hogwarts."

At once it was chaos, everyone talking at the same time about how terrible of an idea that was. Only Hermione, Harry, Draco, and Tonks remained silent. Hermione in shock, just waiting for Draco to explain what he meant. Tonks, Harry, and Draco deep in though.

"It could work," Harry said when enough people had stopped talking. "It could work."

-

-

-

"Mother, please," Severus said and turned away from the painting. If it weren't for his mother's usefulness in communicating with Harry, he would have put her in the bottom of a drawer and never brought her back out.

"It's only I know nothing of the boy. Not even who his mother is. And I am his grandmother, and he didn't even know my name. What kind of boy are you raising. He has no knowledge of his family."

Severus sighed. "He is of age. No longer a boy. Fully grown. And I do not share his family history with him because he has not expressed an interest and because there are far better things I could do with my time. There is a war going on. And you are not his grandmother. You are a painting of his grandmother, nothing more."

"It's Lily, then," Eileen Prince persisted. "I never thought the two of you would get together, but his eyes. Oh, I remember that girl. She was a wonderful girl."

Severus did not respond. There was no use. She would just keep asking questions, and talking. Why wasn't Harry being bothered by her painting. She wanted to know so much about him, why not ask Harry himself.

"Ah, so it is Lily. I was just fishing with that, but when you didn't respond. I entertained the idea of it being someone else for a moment. But it was always Lily for you. I remember the day you met her. You came home from the park, and for once you had a smile. It was not someone anyone else would have noticed. But I am your mother, and a mother always knows. Your father was in the sitting room and you came in, you didn't say a word, not one, but it was written across your face. You were happy, excited. You were looking forward to something.

"Later that night, when you knew your father had finally passed out in a drunken daze, you came for your lesson, and you still had that aura about you, that nothing bad could happen. And you told me you had met another witch. That you had just known. That she couldn't have been so beautiful without being a witch. I knew even then, you would love her. And then, your father woke up, later in the evening and he was yelling at me, telling me how worthless we both were, and that hope, that happiness died in your eyes."

Severus pushed back from Dumbledore's desk and turned the painting he had placed among the former headmasters and headmistress' of Hogwarts. "I realized then, she was too good for me. Too beautiful to be broken by me. But I couldn't stay away. I loved her. But she never loved me that way. For her it was always James."

His mother frowned. "But Harry..."

"Merely a child born to satisfy their need for a son," Severus said. "The memories of which I gave up in order to continue with my spying. He was always going to be their son, and it is through the circumstance of their deaths, of their preparedness that Harry and I are even aware of our kinship. Do not speak to me about the love that you hoped fueled uncontrollable passions that helped in the conceiving of Harry"

"Severus!" Eileen cried.

"Disregarding all of that, he is my son. He is the only thing I have left. The only good thing in my life." Severus smiled a little.

His mother grinned. "He loves you," she said. "And you have that look again, on your face right now. That look you had when you met his mother."

Severus turned away again. "Go talk to him, mother. At the moment I have nothing to say to him. Just...I have the map and I'll try. And..."

"I'll let him know."

Severus nodded and turned back to the map as mother left him. There was nothing on the map to give anyone a way out of the castle. Nothing. And the wards would be too strong by the time he came up with a plan. Too much was going wrong too fast. He buried his head in his hands. And when Voldemort finally came to Hogwarts everything would just fall apart. Now there was only to hope that Harry and the order were having better luck coming up with something.


	28. Out of Hogwarts

**Author's Note: **

This chapter was really fun to write. I just liked the different points of views...anyway, hope you like it. Next chapter should be up next week. Thanks for the reviews, and please keep them coming.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty Seven_**

_Out of Hogwarts_

_October 22, 1998_

Draco stared at the white ceiling and contemplated, as he had for the past week, leaving Grimmauld Place, back to Malfoy manor where could get comfort for the woman that believed herself to be his mother. She had done so much for him. Too much, and Draco would never discount her part in his life. He loved her, like a son would love his mother, and yet knowing that they weren't related had made him rethink everything. But he loved her. She was his mother, even though they weren't related, but then, so was Faye. Faye loved him. He could see it in her eyes, but she didn't know him, and there would be a time and place for them to get to know each other, but while all of this went on, they would have to wait, and Draco needed the comfort. The Order had also ceased to need him.

Almost having made up his mind, Draco sat up, folded his arms behind his head and leaned back into the headboard. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, and he had headed into his room for lack of something better to do. He could hear the person in the next room through the thin walls, breathing steadily. He thought it was one of the older Weasley brothers.

Draco sighed and stood up, walking to the mirror that had been hung on the wall across from his bed. In it he saw a boy ready to give up. He was tired, and the bags under his eyes showed that. His skin was paler than usual and even his hair seemed to have lost something on these sleepless nights.

"You need sleep, dearie," the mirror said, startling him.

"I can't sleep," Draco said. And it was the truth. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his old professor, her blue eyes staring at him, asking him what he was going to do. And he could hear Bellatrix urging him on, her voice excited.

Someone knocked on his door and Draco turned away from the mirror.

"You better tell whoever that is to go away," the mirror said. "You need sleep."

Draco rolled his eyes and opened the door. Hermione, a robe wrapped around her waist, smiled at him. "Hey," she said. "Can I come in?"

Draco nodded and pulled the door open wider. Hermione stepped inside around him and looked around the room. "Kind of bare," she said.

"This isn't my home," Draco replied.

"I guess I know that," Hermione said. "It's none of our homes, but you could make yourself more comfortable at least. I mean..." she trailed off and tried to focus her eyes on something in the room, but found nothing.

"What do you mean?" Draco ventured.

Hermione offered a smile that was gone as soon as it had come. "You have me. Faye...I, well, I overheard someone talking, and she's your mother."

Draco snorted. "My mother is Narcissa Malfoy," he said. "Faye. She's my bilogical mother, and I haven't exactly had a good conversation with the woman yet. It's complicated and the thing is, it won't become uncomplicated until this is over. I can't think about her being my mother. And you're so cozy with Potter that I doubt you're here for me."

"He's my best friend. How do you expect me to act?" Hermione asked in a small voice. "We weren't in the best of terms before I was hit by that spell, and he's changed so much. For the better, I think. And he needs me."

Draco didn't respond. Instead he sat down on his bed.

"But I'm here now," Hermione said and sat down next to him, reaching for his hand. "I -- there's so much you haven't told me."

"There hasn't been time," Draco said. "And I admit I didn't want to say much over a piece of parchment."

Hermione nodded. "I know," she said.

"There's also my being a Death Eater, well, not anymore, but that wasn't something I could talk about. And then I knew about Potter and I couldn't tell you, and just my mother."

"Faye," Hermione said. "How long have you known?"

"Maybe about a month."

"She's really great," Hermione offered. "When she was helping me get better, we talked a bit. She always planned to become a Healer, but Voldemort sort of put a stop to that, but she knows so much about healing. It just really interested me. I was thinking I could maybe go into that. Although, I'm not big on blood, but it's saving lives and it doesn't have to do with the Ministry."

Draco smiled. "You'd make a good healer."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and gave a small yawn. "If we survive this."

"We will," Draco said, sure of himself.

"And that's why Harry needs my support," Hermione said, continuing his argument from earlier. "He is the vanguard of the light, and I think he is finally realizing it. He needs me as his friend."

Draco rolled his eyes but changed the topic of conversation instead of continuing it, knowing that this was not something they would agree on. They hadn't agreed on it even before Hermione had been put to sleep by Faye. Hermione was always busy helping Harry out, always talking about The-Boy-Who-Lived, always trying to figure out exactly what he was hiding from her.

"Nobody's said anything about my father," Draco said. "I don't want to be the one to ask, but has there been anything? You've been more involved than I have."

"Nothing, although I think Faye knows something. She gets this look sometimes, when she's looking at Harry, as if she wants to say something."

"Of course it has to do with Harry," Draco muttered.

Hermione yawned again, and this time she covered her mouth.

"You should go to bed. You look tired."

"So do you," Hermione shot back, "but I should be heading back to bed, you're right."

Hermione stood up and yawned yet again. Draco watched her, knowing that he wouldn't get to sleep, now with McGonagall's face clear in his mind, ready to surface the moment he closed his eyes. In a moment of impulse he took both her hands. "You can stay here," he said. "With me, for the night."

She shook her head. "What would everyone else think? No. I should go to my own bed. They would all see us in the morning."

"Please," Draco said, and hated that his voice had turned almost pleading.

Hermione frowned at him. "What's wrong, Draco?" Tentatively she turned and reached to touch his face. She looked closer at him. "Have you been sleeping at all?"

Draco shook his head. "Not really. I..."

"Dreamless sleep potion, wouldn't that help."

"Not when you can't even fall asleep for the potion to work and a sleeping potion has sopohorous beans. They're a key ingredient and I'm allergic to them. But I think maybe with someone else here, maybe I'll be able to sleep."

Hermione sighed and looked as if she were trying to find a reason to not stay the night, but then she nodded. "Alright, I'll stay."

"Maybe I'll believe you now, when you say you're here for me," Draco said.

Hermione pushed him towards the bed and smiled slightly. "Harry's my best friend, Draco, when are you going to understand." She pulled back the covers and slipped between the sheets next to Draco

"And I," Draco said, leaning over her, "am simply your boyfriend." He sealed that with a kiss that Hermione returned happily.

"I knew this was probably a bad idea," she said when she pulled away, and giggled when Draco pressed a kiss to her collar bone.

-

-

-

Ron was not used to being the one that everyone looked to for answers. But that's what he got for being the last member of the Golden Trio at Hogwarts. He also knew, now, how Harry felt all the time, not being able to answer any questions, even to the people closest to him.

"You alright?" Lavender asked.

Ron smiled tightly. "Fine," he said. "I'm just thinking too much again."

She nodded and turned back to her work.

Ron watched her. She knew of course, that he was hiding something from her and it was his luck that she was so understanding and wouldn't press him for answers.

Ron reached for the hand that held the quill and stopped it. She looked up at him once more, questioningly.

"I love you," Ron said.

Lavender dropped her quill and turned on the couch they were seated so she was facing him, and then she cradled his face in her hands, before kissing him, hard.

Ron smiled into the kiss as he pulled her closer. He would never get enough of Lavender. He wanted to just spend the rest of his life with her, just like they were now. In his mind's eye he could picture them sitting in their own home, older, their hands clasped while a little girl with his hair and her eyes played with a doll. Before he could think better of it, Ron pulled back. He gave her an intense look, that made her squirm.

"Ron...wha..."

"Marry me," Ron said.

"I...what did you just say?" Lavender pulled back and stood up. "I thought I heard you say..." she paused and took a deep breath "...marry me."

Ron nodded and stood up. He took her hands, but she pulled them away from his.

"Lavender?"

"I...what do you want me to say?"

"Yes," Ron offered. "I love you. I want to spend the re..."

"No!" she cried, stopping him.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she was shaking. She wrapped her arms around herself in comfort and looked around the empty common room in panic.

"Don't you feel..." Ron began but stopped when she shot him a glare. "Lavender? Sweetheart?"

She sat down. Ron walked towards her and gently took her into his arms. "It's alright," he said. "I didn't mean right now. I didn't mean while this war is still ongoing. After. After everything, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"If you have a life to live," Lavender said. "You keep going off by yourself and you're hiding something from me and...and you're Harry Potter's best friend. And I am waiting for the day when one of those Death Eaters does something to you because of it. I can't say yes. I can't say yes when I'm not sure that we will be alive to get married. But I love you."

Lavender leaned into him. "I love you so much it hurts, and I don't want this pain to be greater if I lose you."

Her hands played with his Head-Boy badge as she buried her head in his neck.

"Then a promise," Ron said. "Promise me, if we both get out of this alive, we will get engaged."

She nodded against him. "And if one of us doesn't, we'll move on."

Ron hesitated. "Yes. Alright," he said at last. "I love you." He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. He could be satisfied with just knowing that she loved him just as much as he loved her, until Voldemort was gone.

At this moment, the portrait of the fat lady, swung open and Imogen rushed inside.

"Ron!" she called. "It's time."

Ron's eyes widened. He looked from Imy to Lavender, and in that moment made another impulsive decision. "Come with me," he said to Lavender. "We're leaving tonight. Vol -- he's coming, and we're leaving. Harry managed to figure out a way. Originally I was going to leave you behind but..."

"Will it compromise anything?"

"No. Just come with us. They won't mind, I'm sure of it," Ron rushed out, and pulled her up.

He grabbed their discarded cloaks, and still holding her hand pulled her along out of the common room.

-

-

-

Harry didn't have time to worry about Hermione not being in her room. She was probably in the library, and as he rushed after Faye, Remus, and Charlie he couldn't help but think it was probably a good thing he couldn't find her, and that at least this way, she wouldn't become involved with getting Ron and Imy out.

They came to a stop within the safe apparation spot that the twins had fixed for them. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled the potion that would make Voldemort miss his presence and downed the entire thing, hoping it would last long enough for them to pull this off.

"How much time do we have?" Charlie asked.

"To get the wards down after he enters, about five, but I think I can handle that. It all depends on how fast Ron and Imy can get out of the castle. The wards can only be weak for so long, before they strengthen themselves. You'll have about ten to fifteen minutes to get back out of them."

Charlie nodded, and they continued on in silence.

Everything had to go according to plan. There couldn't be one flaw. They had to apparate there just as he entered the wards to Hogsmeade, otherwise he would not be able to hold them open long enough for Remus and Charlie to fetch Ron and Imy from the Shrieking Shack. He looked at the coin in his hand and waited. It would be only seconds now, and then it turned red hot.

Harry apparated into some nearby bushes right outside the main entrance to Hogsmeade, and the one that Voldemort would use. He waited, hiding in bushes, and pressed his thumb into the coin so it cooled. And then he spotted the dark figure, flying towards Hogsmeade. He paused and waved his hand at the ward, and Harry watched as it came apart to let him in. It was then he acted, pressing the coin again, and pausing the ward from closing off completely.

Voldemort, over confident, did not turn to check on the wards and continued on his way. Harry watched him and then pressed the coin yet again. He heard them apparate behind him, and turned. He could see only Faye behind him, but knew the other two must have already gone into Hogsmeade.

"How's your magic?" Faye asked.

"Alright for now. They haven't fought back yet."

"I'm here when you need me."

Harry nodded and pushed a little more of his magic out.

-

-

-

Bellatrix had taken the rooms closest to Gryffindor tower. This placement had been strategic in case, as the Dark Lord predicted, Ron Weasley tried to leave the castle in the middle of night. So far there had been nothing. None of the Gryffindors had been stupid enough to wander the halls of Hogwarts in the middle of the night even without knowing that she was there waiting to catch them. So when the spell she had placed out in the hallway by her room went off, Bellatrix shot up out of bed, surprised. She rubbed at her eyes, and then quickly got out of bed, ignoring the cold floor as she ran to her vanity table.

She grabbed a small mirror and tapped it with her wand. The reflection of her face on the mirror vanished, and was replaced by that of the hallway right outside the Gryffindor common room.

It was a blond girl that from her stature seemed to be a first or second year. Bellatrix watched her. She didn't look in any way like someone that would break rule, but she had. The girl ran to the Gryffindor common room and went inside.

Bellatrix sighed. This was nothing. This girl meant nothing. She had probably gotten lost, or fallen asleep in the wrong place. She could have been in the infirmary. There were a number of things that could be reason for her being late to her common room, and Bellatrix wasn't there to deal with that. She walked back to her bed, but didn't leave the mirror behind or taking the spell off of it. She slipped back into her bed and took her wand, bringing it to the mirror, but as she did she noticed movement on it.

She brought the mirror closer and knew at once that something was going on because Ron Weasley, his girlfriend, and the blond girl were leaving Gryffindor common room.

-

-

-

Bellatrix followed them. Watched them as they made their way out of the castle. She wasn't ready to attack them yet. She couldn't do it on the grounds. She'd wait to see how they planned to get out first. Voldemort would want to know how they planned this. He would want to get the people helping them out, and Bellatrix knew Potter had to be involved in this. Ron Weasley was his best friend, how could he not be involved?

She pressed herself against the wall as Weasley looked back. He nodded to something the blond girl said, and they continued on, down the stairs, through secret passageways that Bellatrix had never imagined to be there, and then suddenly out of the school.

They kept walking, not to the gates as Bellatrix had first thought but towards the forbidden forest. She followed them, closer now than before, and then she realized they were headed towards the Whomping Willow.

In the dark she couldn't see what Weasley did, but suddenly the tree stopped moving, and then the three of them disappeared one by one. The tree began to move as suddenly as it had stopped. Bellatrix pulled out her wand.

"Lumos," she whispered and her wand lit up. She pointed it towards the tree, but found no possible way for them to have left.

She should have stopped them earlier. What had Weasley done? He must have done something to make the tree stop, and if she could just get closer to see it maybe she could figure it out.

The passage had to lead to somewhere. Hogsmeade, perhaps. It was the only place close enough, especially if they had gone underground. The only question left was where exactly they would come out.

Bellatrix inched closer to the tree, trying not to be hit by any branches, but just as she spotted a part of the tree that looked different, a branch hit her across the abdomen hard, sending her flying into the air. She hit another branch that threw her to the ground, and yet another tried to hit her, but she rolled out of the way. She could already feel bruises forming, but she knew what she had to do.

She crawled closer and reached out, it was a small knot at the bottom of the tree. It pushed in and the tree stopped moving, and as it did she could see where they had gone, the hole they had slipped themselves into, and she fell right into it.

Bellatrix had to crouch through the tunnel that had been made under the three. Just by feeling the walls, she walked towards an exit that she couldn't see just in case the light from her wand gave her away.

The passage came a stop suddenly, and Bellatrix could see light coming through another hole. She climbed up, through it and into the room of a house that seemed to be falling apart.

She heard something breaking in the next room and walked nearer to the noise, and then she saw them. Lupin, and another Weasley helping them get out of the house. She watched and waited. She would need help with them here, and she would get it once they were out of the house. Her wards, after all wouldn't fail her now, not with her here to strengthen them if needed.

-

-

-

Yaxley saw them and then he saw a dark hooded figure that must have been another Death Eater. Pulling out his wand, he neared them. He had to wait for just the right moment, and then he could strike.

He raised his wand, just as he neared the other Death Eater, and then a spell was shot out towards him. He dodged, throwing himself to the ground, and then he saw that it wasn't just the three students, but two others. He shot a spell out towards them and saw the other Death Eater do the same.

One of the students fell, the smallest one, he thought, but the other two were being protected by one of the men, the other one had engaged in a battle with the other Death Eater that Yaxley now recognized as Bellatrix. And he was losing. He would leave him to her.

Another Death Eater had joined in now, and he was running towards them, wand at the ready. Yaxley smiled. Now they had them.

"Ron, go!" one of the red haired men was shouting. "Take Lavender and Imy and go! He's waiting out there with Faye."

Yaxley saw them inching away, and he ran after them. The other Death Eater, Dolohov, he thought, would keep them occupied while he dealt with them.


	29. Captured and Revealed

**Author's Note: **

Finally put this up. I've meaning to for the past few days and now it's finally up. Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming, and enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty Eight_**

_Captured and Revealed_

_October 23, 1998_

Harry could feel Ron shaking. He, Ron, Imy, and Faye were being pushed down a steep flight of stairs, and left behind with Bellatrix and another Death Eater Harry didn't know the identity of, was Lavender. She was to be questioned first, and Harry knew exactly what that questioning would include.

Greyback, who had been tasked with leading them down to where they would be kept for questioning, unlocked a door and pulled each of them along, pushing Harry inside last. He caught himself against the bars of the cells that had been constructed in the cellar of the house, before Greyback pushed him forward again. The room was dank and musty, there was only one source of light, a small candle floating in the middle of the room, and the light from the stairs that led to the cellar.

The werewolf opened one of the cell doors and Faye stepped willingly inside. Harry followed, but Ron didn't seem to notice anything and almost fell to the ground after Greyback had pushed him inside. Imy sidestepped Greyback and entered the cell before she could get manhandled, and Greyback laughed.

"I reckon, I'll have a bit of you later," Greyback said in his rough voice, and then turned to leave.

He shut the door to the cellar behind him, leaving the room in almost darkness. Harry took the time to look around and found that they weren't alone. There were a number of other people in the room, but Harry's eyes found a face he recognized immediately in the cell next to his. Artemis.

She was leaning against a sleeping woman that didn't look quite as sickly as Artemis did, but looked much too frail to live longer than into next week, if she even made it that far. Artemis, however, although looking as if she were in a far worse condition seemed to still retain a certain vitality that gave Harry hope to her living if they could rescue her, if the spell eating away at her body would let them, but the spell had taken a toll on her that was not shown physically, and knowing this Harry was surprised at her being there at all.

"Is that the girl?" Faye asked.

Harry nodded. He had told her everything that had happened while he was in Godric's Hollow, and that had included what had happened the night Artemis was captured.

"I didn't think she was still alive," he said truthfully. "Now I wonder if I should have tried to find her, to get her out here. Where is here anyway."

Faye shrugged. "I tried to figure it out as we were brought here, but a heavy spell didn't let me even get it out of one of their minds. It was as if you had to have the mark to be able to know."

Suddenly a terrible, drawn-out scream came from directly above them. Harry turned immediately towards Ron, who had stood quite lifeless in the middle of the cell since being pushed inside it. He was shaking harder than before now, and he didn't seem able to say anything. And then, he too was screaming.

"LAVENDER!" He bellowed, and walked to the bars. He shook them as if that alone would get rid of them and he could go to her rescue.

"Be quiet!" Harry said and walked closer to Ron, reaching for his arm. "Our time would...Ron, we need to find a way to..."

Ron continued yelling her name over and over again, startling Artemis and the woman whose shoulder she had used as a pillow awake. For a moment they were disoriented, and then Artemis spotted him.

"Harry!" she cried.

Harry smiled sadly. "Artemis," he said just as Lavender screamed from above them again.

Ron let out a few more calls of her name, but his voice was going hoarse.

"What...what are you doing here? What's with all the screaming?"

"It's my friend. He...his girlfriend is being tortured upstairs. They think she'll tell them anything about what we were planning. I think they assume we were trying to get back the school." The last bit he addressed to Faye who nodded distractedly.

She had been distracted since they arrived there, and Harry thought this might have been the reason she hadn't figured out where there were, not that it would really be of use, because they were trapped. Their wands had been taken away, and even with them, Harry was exhausted magically. Now there was only to wait for Voldemort to be called there from Hogwarts ironically enough, and everything would be over. He needed sleep. One or two hours would do considering everything, but as long as he got at least that much to replenish his energy he imagined that he could get some control of his wandless magic, especially if he took some from Faye or perhaps Ron in his uselessness.

Lavender screamed yet again, and this time her voice cracked halfway and after that her screams ceased, but Harry knew that she had probably lost her voice.

Ron was sobbing now. He was on the floor, and he seemed to be rocking himself. Imy had approached him and hugged him, but he had pushed her off, and he continued crying.

Harry had been sure for a while that Lavender and Ron were simply meant to be, but seeing the state Ron was in now, made him complete sure, and he knew that he would have to do all that he could to make sure that after this ordeal, Ron and Lavender still had each other.

"I need sleep," Harry said.

"You do," Faye agreed, still somewhat absently.

Harry wondered exactly what she was so busy thinking about, but didn't give that much thought before he turned back to choosing where to fall asleep.

-

-

-

When Harry woke up what felt like only minutes later, when the cell was opened again, and Lavender was led inside. She was unsteady on her feet, and from what he could see in the dim light, bruised all over.

Ron caught her before she fell, and kissed her before he began to look over her. She sunk into his body, and Ron hugged to him gently, but possesively.

"How long have I been asleep."

"About three hours," Imy said, turning from Artemis to whom she had been explaining the situation.

"Long enough," Harry muttered to himself and stood up.

His magic levels were not yet up to what he would have wanted, but it was enough for him to do something, anything to get them out. He opened his eyes, and looked around at his companions. "What can we do to get out here?"

"Lucius," Faye said.

"Lucius?"

"He's here," Faye elaborated. "I could feel him from the moment we entered the house. He's here."

Harry snorted. "And what good with that do us? That just proves how much we cannot trust him."

"No, we can trust him," Faye said. "He may not...he did this with a reason. I -- we can trust him."

"There must be another way."

Harry didn't know why he wanted nothing to do with Lucius, other than the fact that Lucius had left Grimmauld Place without any warning, and that now he was once more in league with the Death Eaters and most likely Voldemort. Although, the more Harry thought about it, he decided Lucius had yet to see Voldemort yet, considering he was in this house which meant he had not yet been punished intensely for his earlier betrayal, if Voldemort even decided to take him back.

"He would help, Harry," Imy said, suddenly. "Mr. Malfoy...he isn't a bad man. He's a very good man, in fact. I think this was his way of protecting his son."

"What do you know?" Faye asked of Imy before Harry could say anything in response.

Imy pulled back from Faye. "Just, well, he wanted to be able to keep Draco alive...he was very fearful of what would happen once Snape ceased to be a spy for the Order. I spent quite a bit of time in the library over the summer and he and I talked sometimes."

Faye frowned at her. "Lucius can be trusted," she said, turning back to Harry, "and unless you have a better way for us to get out of this, he's our only choice."

"I can use magic," Harry said.

"Without our wands the rest of us can't and you are not nearly as strong enough to protect us all," Faye said. "Be reasonable, Harry."

Harry knew Faye had a point. Trying to escape without someone that knew the house, and without their wands was stupid, but Harry did not want Lucius Malfoy's help on this.

The door to the cellar opened and Harry turned, and as their luck would have it, Lucius Malfoy stepped into the room.

"Mr. Potter," he said, "we meet again."

Faye, despite all her arguing for his sake, stared at him with an expression of disgust.

Lucius seemed surprised to see her. His eyes widened and although he was good at hiding his emotions, the longing and the guilt that crossed his face was unmistakable. His emotions played out on his face for barely a few seconds, however before he had everything in check, and he was smirking at them.

"So, Mr. Potter, will you allow me to help?"

Harry knew there was no other way, but still he took his time before he nodded. "Alright, fine. But if you so much as..."

Harry didn't get to finish, because at that precise moment the door opened again, and they all looked towards it, waiting for whoever was behind it.

-

-

-

Hermione closed Draco's door quietly behind her, hoping that no one would see her, and then she quickly tip-toed to her room. It was dark in the hallway, but she didn't endeavor to light her wand, it wouldn't do for anyone to see her sneaking around. She heard a cough from behind her and paused, not daring to turn.

"Miss, Granger," Regulus Black said and stepped out of the shadows. "What are you doing sneaking around?"

"I could ask the same of you," Hermione replied, holding her ground. She held her cloak tightly around her and crossed her arms.

"If you must know, I've been trying to figure out if I should send Kreacher to find Mr. Potter and the others. They've been gone over three hours now and they might have gotten in trouble. I was surprised to see you here. I thought you were part of the guard."

"I was..." Hermione frowned. "They left without me."

Regulus nodded. "They had to leave quickly and you didn't respond. Potter thought it best to let you be."

"When did they leave?"

"Just before three."

Hermione nodded. "This shouldn't have taken them longer than an hour. Something went wrong."

"Quite," Regulus said. "Kreacher!"

The old house elf appeared mere seconds after being called, and Hermione amused herself by comparing the easy way this house elf followed Regulus to the way he hadn't Sirius.

"Find Harry. Muffle your apparition, and help him if he's in any danger."

Kreacher nodded. "Of course, Master," the elf said, bowed to them once and with that left again, leaving Hermione and Regulus in an awkward silence.

"So..." Regulus said at last. "Draco Malfoy's room."

At that Hermione was reminded too much of Sirius, so although she smiled slightly, she turned on her heel and practically ran to her room. She heard Regulus' laughter which sounded oddly like Sirius' as she closed her bedroom door.

-

-

-

Harry had never expected that his kindness extended towards Wormtail his third year at Hogwarts would ever be the thing that got them out of this situation, but when he saw Wormtail, he knew what would have to happen and they wouldn't need Lucius Malfoy to help them get out. He would call on the life debt. Dumbledore had explained it to him then, and Harry had not seen, at the time, how much it would affect things later, but now he could call on it, and they could get out of here before Voldemort arrived.

"We don't need your help," Harry said addressing Lucius.

Lucius laughed. "I think you do, Mr. Potter." He pulled out his wand and pointed it towards Wormtail.

"Lucius?" Wormtail squeaked. "I'm...I'm s-ss..supposed to...to get Weas...ley."

"I don't think you'll be doing that, now, Peter," Lucius said.

"Lucius?" Faye asked. "What are you doing?"

"Helping," was Lucius' reply.

"How exactly..."

Harry walked closer to Lucius so that they were separated only by the bars. "Get us out then," he said. "You can open these cells as a start."

Lucius waved his wand at them and they opened. Harry nodded and then turned to Wormtail, thinking quickly. His wand. He needed his wand, it was his connection to Voldemort, something too important to be ignored. But Bellatrix had it, there was no way for them to get it without someone getting hurt and Harry wasn't willing to chance that.

"Wormtail, what's taking so long?" someone yelled from above.

Wormtail didn't answer back, looking from Lucius to the door.

An almost inaudible crack came suddenly from next to Imy, and Harry turned to find Kreacher standing there.

"Master sent me to help," the elf explained and stepped toward Harry. "Kreacher can apparate Harry."

"Wormtail!" Bellatrix yelled, her voice sounding closer than before.

"Take them, quickly," Harry instructed, pointing towards Artemis and another woman that had been fast asleep, "and then come back for us."

Kreacher nodded.

"I guess you found your house-elf, eh, Potter?" Lucius said.

"I also found my own way out of here," Harry retorted.

"I'm doing this for my son. I am doing this for the Order. You cannot understand this yet, but my help will..." he trailed off.

"Take her too," Faye said and pushed Imy towards Kreacher.

Kreacher apparated away with Artemis, Imy, and the nameless woman. This time there was a louder crack, and Harry did not doubt that Bellatrix and Greyback had heard it. In fact, a few seconds after it happened, Bellatrix was shouting for Wormtail again and telling Greyback to go check the cellar.

"I don't trust you," Harry said to Lucius.

"And what would it take to trust me?"

"My wand," Harry said. "If you can get me, my wand."

Lucius snorted. "That's suicide!"

"It is not important," Faye added, looking desperately between Harry and Lucius. She stepped closer to Harry and took his hand. "You have to believe he is loyal to you, Harry," she whispered. "After everything, you have to know that."

Harry knew that to keep arguing meant losing more time. "He may very well be on our side, but he is risking his life to get us out of here, he can certainly risk his life to get my wand. It is important."

Faye opened her mouth to continue arguing, but Harry shook his head. "I know you care about him, but do not be blinded by what you feel for him." He shot Lucius a look. "Prove to me I can still trust you."

Lucius nodded. "Fine," he said.

"Wormtail will help you, won't you, Wormtail?" Harry said, and then continued sarcastically, "I hate to ask your life debt repaid to me, but I do think now is the time."

Wormtail's eyes widened, and he squeaked. He tried to say something, but choked up before he could, and then he nodded.

Harry smirked. "Wonderful," he said just as Kreacher reappeared.

"How many of us can you take?"

"All," the elf replied, and motioned for them to come closer.

The last thing Harry saw before he, Faye, Ron, and Lavender dissaparated with Kreacher was Bellatrix entering the room, and he wondered what Lucius would say to defend himself and Wormtail.

-

-

-

Hermione knew only so much about healing someone, but Draco, it was apparent, knew just a tad bit more. Despite his knowledge, they could do nothing to keep the girl that had been delivered to Grimmauld Place some minutes prior, from dying.

"It had to have been Kreacher moving her here," Hermione reasoned out. "She must have been so unstable to begin with."

Draco nodded and passed his wand over her again. "She's a muggle," he said at last. "I thought..." he trailed off and looked away from Hermione. "I thought maybe it had to do with her lack of magic. I didn't think she was a muggle."

Hermione frowned at him disapprovingly and then turned back to the dying girl. Muggle or not, she should not have had to suffer through this. Hermione reached for her hand and held it in both of hers.

The sound of Kreacher apparating into the room, made her look up some minutes later, and she was happy to see Harry, Faye, Ron, and Lavender. She didn't rush towards them, however, not wanting to leave the muggle girl.

"How is she?" Harry asked and took the girl's other hand.

"It was probably the apparition," Hermione whispered.

Faye had come to join them, now, and had brought out her own wand. "There's nothing to be done," she said. "That spell has taken its toll on her. It's a surprise she's still alive."

"They wanted to see her suffer," the woman that had been with Artemis said. "They fed her and gave her water. They even went as far as to fix her injuries...not treated at all like the rest of us. It's why they died."

"Oh, Artemis," Harry said and knelt next to her on the sofa she had been placed.

Hermione moved out of the way and watched with interest. Harry muttered a few things to her and then took both her hands. He closed his eyes and seemed to make an attempt at a spell, but it didn't work.

"Harry, don't exhaust yourself. You need rest," Faye insisted and touched his shoulder.

"There must be something. I searched for so long...and then I forgot. I forgot about her. What must her family think of me now."

"You can explain everything to them later," Faye told him and pulled him away from Artemis. "Right now you need rest. We need to be rid of these Horcruxes..."

Harry pulled away from Faye and went back to Artemis. This time he touched her temples and Hermione knew he was probably using legillimency. For some reason, seeing Harry act so devoted to this girl that he hardly knew bothered her. Draco who had come to stand next her inconspicuously took her hand.

"For some reason I think that even after everything that happened last night in your eyes he will always be the better man."

"Don't be silly, Draco," Hermione whispered back, and squeezed his hand.

Draco snorted and pulled away, going to take a seat next to Regulus as far away from everyone else as possible where the two Slytherins sat silently for a while before starting up a conversation.

-

-

-

Lucius Malfoy was no fool. He knew, the moment that Bellatrix saw him and Peter standing just outside of two open cells with no prisoners in sight, that he would have some trouble persuading Voldemort that he was still on his side, so as Peter stuttered and tried to come up with an explanation, Lucius had non-verbally cast a memory charm, and if there was something Lucius could do, it was memory charms. It was how he had gotten away with being a spy the first time around when his occlumency failed -- he would never claim to be as good a spy as Severus Snape, but this was about saving Snape for Harry Potter and proving his usefulness in this war to Order, for when it was over, not even Potter's testimony would be enough to keep him out of Azkaban and that was one place Lucius did not want to return to.

The memory charm took place, and he modified only a few things in her mind. He had used this charm on Bellatrix so many times, and been in her mind enough times, that it was easy to make her assume that his version of events was right.

"Not a word, Pettigrew," Lucius said in a whisper.

"What happened?" Bella asked.

"We all came down to see what that crack was, and found none of the prisoners, and Wormtail here was passed out. I just enervated him."

Bella nodded as if she was agreeing, and Lucius couldn't help but smirk.

On the floor above them, there seemed to be a commotion and the three Death Eaters exchanged looks. It meant to Lucius that Harry and the rest had gotten out at just the right moment, and that punishment was coming. As they began to walk up the stairs, Lucius noticed Harry wand poking out of Bella's pocket, and he reached for it. She felt nothing as he withdrew it and then handed it to Wormtail who frowned at him.

"Just keep it for me, for now," Lucius mouthed. Pettigrew seemed to understand, because he nodded and slipped it into one of his own grimmy pockets.

When they had reached the rather large dining room of Nott manor, they found Voldemort seated in a throne like chair. He was already furious, his red eyes glinting.

"Where," he said, "is Potter?" His voice was soft, yet demanding, almost as it to make one feel a false sense of security.

"They're gone, master," Bellatrix said. "I have disappointed you, Master, and I deserve to be punished. She bowed to him and crawled toward him.

"Punishment will be given due where it is deserved," Voldemort said, looking all the time at Lucius.

He bowed to the man. "I am sorry for my former lack of loyalty, My Lord. It was to be a great moment when I came back to you, crawling on Harry Potter's capture no less. Although I have other news that might be of interest to you, My Lord. This might prove my devotedness to you."

Voldemort looked at him apprasingly. "Go on," he said.

"My Lord," Lucius said. He paused and then took a deep breath. "I have discovered recently, that James Potter is not Harry Potter's father."

"Then who could it be? Why is this of any importance?"

"It is one of your Death Eaters, My Lord." Lucius took another pause.

Voldemort did not say anything, but he waved his hand as if to say that he should continue.

"Harry Potter's father is none other than Severus Snape, a traitor to you, My Lord."


	30. The Dark Illuminator at Work

**Author's Note: **

I've had this one just sitting around for a while. Forgot to post it though. I haven't done much writing recently. I just don't have the drive for this fic anymore...but I still hope to eventually finish it. Anyhow...enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, Imogen, Echo, Artemis, and I almost forgot him...Sawyer.

**_Chapter Twenty Nine_**

_The Dark Illuminator at Work _

_October 24, 1998_

Severus moved his arm tenderly as he shifted into a better position against the wall. He hissed when the skin on his back stretched and settled himself down as comfortably as he could, and then he let his head drop against the wall and his eyes close, although he knew sleep was not something he would achieve. The empty room that he had been thrown in early that morning was dark, cold, and smelled of blood. Severus had no idea if it was his own or not, but tried to pay it no mind.

Voldemort had really done a number on him, and had he not ordered Lucius to give him any of those potions, he doubted he would still be alive. But Voldemort wanted to kill him in front of Harry. He wanted to break Harry by showing him his power in killing Harry's own father. They had tried to avoid this. Tried and failed, and now Severus was wracked with painful spasms from being held under the Cruciatus for so long, with lashes on his back, a broken arm, a sprained ankle, and more bruises than he could count. He was hungry and thirsty, and he thought at least one of his ribs was broken.

His body shook and he groaned in pain. Moving in any way was too hard and these spasms made none of this easy.

Only one thought remained in his mind, unhidden by the walls of his occlumency, and that was that Harry did not come to his rescue. Harry needed to focus on destroying the horcruxes, and not any danger that Severus was in. But he wouldn't, not if he knew Severus was in danger.

Footsteps alerted Severus and he tried to stand. He would not be seen as weak.

"Stay on the ground, Severus," Lucius Malfoy said. "Do not exert yourself. He will want to continue playing with you, no doubt, and you need as much strength as possible."

"What are you doing here?" Severus asked.

Voldemort had told him to his face the night before about Lucius' betrayal of the Order. How he had come to him and told him that Harry Potter was his son.

"I did this for the Order," Lucius said. "You may not believe me now, but I did."

"What do you want now, then?" Severus asked. He didn't believe one word Lucius said.

Lucius said nothing, and then he turned and left, leaving Severus to wonder what Lucius had wanted.

-

-

-

"What are you looking for?" Hermione asked.

"My second wand," Harry said, and threw a couple of rolls of parchment to the floor.

He had cleaned his trunk once before, to gather the things he would take with him on his trip to Godric's Hollow and he had taken everything that could be important to him, including the wand Faye had given him on his birthday, but he had put it in his trunk after learning wandless magic, and it had to be in there somewhere along with everything else that he had deemed important enough to keep.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, and picked up the phoenix Draco had given him for Christmas.

"To be truthful I don't remember what it does. Might just be a figurine or something. Draco gave it to me for Christmas."

Hermione frowned. "You weren't friends, then, though."

Harry nodded. "Yes. I think he was making an attempt at getting my attention. He didn't want to kill Dumbledore and he was trying to find a way out. My father didn't help in that aspects. We made many mistakes about that."

Harry continued throwing things out of his trunk. He needed that wand. Faye and Lucius had made it as close to his own as possible for this instance alone and Harry needed to destroy the Horcruxes. He had tried to use Hermione's, Faye's, and even Draco's before thinking about his second wand. He didn't want to have to wait on Lucius to get his wand back. It meant waiting to destroy the Horcruxes and that was one thing that Harry wanted to get done as soon as possible. He would start with the locket.

"Do you need any help? This looks like a mess."

"If you want. I would think you had other things to be doing," Harry said.

"If you mean Draco..." Hermione trailed off.

"No, I'm happy for you, I guess. He isn't that bad. I think he's actually a lot like me." Harry looked up from the trunk. "There was something my father said to me once about his dislike of James. They were too alike to like each other. All the faults he hated in James, he hated in himself. Draco and I are quite alike and after getting to know him better I've found that I can get along with him."

Hermione grinned and suddenly hugged him. "Oh, Harry!" she cried. "I think he might feel the same way. Of course he tends to hide behind his insults. It was always his way and that's what first drew us together. His wit..." she trailed off.

A cough from behind them made Hermione pull away. "Draco!" she cried.

"And what's going on here?"

"Searching for my wand," Harry said. "Well, my second wand. I think it might help."

Hermione had gone back to going through the things he had already thrown out of his trunk, and then stopped, lifting up an object Harry had thought he lost. The object was in the form of a V and covered in runes and Hermione had only held it for a few seconds before it fell from her hand as if repelled from her. She gasped and stepped away from it.

Harry walked forward and reached for it just as Draco did. They shared a look and turned to Hermione.

"I've seen one of these before," Draco whispered. "It shouldn't have done that."

He reached for it, but pulled back his hand. "I shouldn't touch it," he said.

Harry nodded. "I would know you couldn't touch it," he said, "but Hermione..."

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Have you done any dark arts in the past few days?" Harry asked.

"Isn't it possible for it to be faulty?" Draco asked and crossed the room to stand next to Hermione. He took one of her hands.

"Would it let you touch it? You are repelled by it."

Draco frowned.

"Hermione?"

"I...I don't know." She shook her head. "I would never. Harry, you know I wouldn't."

"Could it be residual magic from the spell she was under for so long?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. "The potion would have dealt with that. Maybe Regulus will know more about it. Faye? I don't want to believe that you've done anything, Hermione."

Hermione nodded and leaned into Draco, who wrapped an arm around her. Harry didn't know what the feeling was that welled up in him seeing this. She pulled back a second later. "Can I maybe try to touch it again."

"No. It might do worse to you," Draco said and pulled her back.

Hermione nodded. "Is it my very magic? What is it that it reads exactly?"

"Your aura, I think," Harry said, "and your magic."

-

-

-

"Perhaps if I read her magic," Regulus said and looked from Harry to Draco who protectively held Hermione's hand.

Harry nodded. "I thought about using legillimency myself," he said. "Just in case, but didn't want to say anything about it earlier. I wanted to know if there was just any other possibility."

Regulus sighed. "The dark illuminator is an odd object, but a trace of dark magic will always be left behind in the aura and very magical being of a person, and perhaps this is just out of an exposure to dark magic."

Regulus was holding the dark illuminator in his hands and had been playing with it since they had come to see him in the library. He had summoned a number of books to help him out, but he had already known enough about it and explained that it could not be mistaken.

"Come here, Hermione."

Hermione pulled away from Draco and stepped closer to Regulus, who set down the dark illuminator and stood. He circled her, and closed his eyes to get a good feel for her magic.

"Strong," he muttered. "Very powerful, and mostly light." He reached for Hermione's hand and she let him take it. "But...dark. Very dark, in fact I see a...a taint in her magical core." He let go of her hand and pulled back. His eyes were wide and scared. "I must...I must research this before I can draw a further conclusion."

With this said, Regulus gathered some of the books he had summoned earlier and walked off to another set of shelves.

"What do you think he saw?" Harry asked.

"Whatever it was," Hermione said, "it wasn't good from the look on his face."

-

-

-

Ron sighed at Lavender's fingers running through his hair. Being back at Grimmauld Place after everything that had happened was a welcome respite. He and Lavender had for the most part been at their own leisure while Harry, Faye, Regulus, and Hermione made attempts at destroying the Horcruxes. Everyone in the house now knew what they were doing and Ron just hoped that they could get everything done quickly.

"I feel useless," Lavender said suddenly. "Everyone else is always so busy, running around doing something. And we're just sitting around. I've tried to help, but there seems to be nothing for me to do. Hermione just said to read up on healing. But reading is so boring."

Ron chuckled and lifted his head from her lap. "I think for the moment there isn't much to be done. Harry's waiting for his wand, or something. Hermione is just reading like always. Imy seems to be busy trying to read up on Regulus' notes, and that man...why I don't know what he's been doing."

"I guess," Lavender admitted. "Perhaps I just need something other than sitting around to do."

"We could always go into my bedroom," Ron suggested and waggled his eyebrows.

Lavender laughed. "I don't think that would be appropriate with so many people in the house."

"I was kidding," Ron said, and turned in the love seat so he was sitting up properly. "Perhaps we could plan a wedding," he hinted. "I do still want to marry you."

"After all of this is over," she said. "Please, Ron."

"Yes. I know," he admitted, "I just...maybe we should read those books on healing. Or we could help Fred and George with whatever they're working on now."

Lavender sighed. "I don't think we'd be of much help."

-

-

-

Lucius had the wand. It was sitting in his pocket right that moment, the problem was he had no idea how he was going to get it to Harry. This was not the kind of thing one just mailed, and Voldemort was not about to let him leave headquarters when he was still suspected of helping the Order, even after telling him about Severus and his connection to Harry. Lucius was still not trusted, and he quite doubted he would ever really be trusted. Wormtail could be the one to do it, of course, but Lucius didn't trust the rat marauder. He was weak, unreliable, and could give their plot away.

"Lucius!" Voldemort called.

Lucius sighed, put his occlumency walls up, and walked into the Dark Lord's preferred room, where he sat upon a throne like chair.

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Perhaps you should bring Severus back," he said. "I grow quite bored, and torturing him just a little might help my nerves."

He said everything so casually, without much feeling, but in the tone of his voice Lucius could find the unwavering anger ready to come at any sign of refusal.

"Of course, My Lord. I will be only a moment." Lucius bowed his head and exited the room quickly, walking with a fast pace down to the room Severus had been put in.

Severus was in for a long torture if Voldemort was bored. He would drag everything out and try to push Severus to his very brink before putting him back together and starting again. Severus was in for a long night and Lucius could only hope that he could be excused unlike most of last time's torture. He didn't think he could handle watching Severus being tortured so with most of his own creations. Lucius had spied a bunch of potion bottles, and they were all of the darkest kind.

"Severus," Lucius said and tapped his wand against the doorknob, opening the door and peaking in.

Severus was curled up on the floor, asleep it seemed, but ragged in breath, dirty, and weak.

"Severus he wants to see you again," Lucius said and stepped into the room. He reached down and shook his shoulder, and Severus woke up with a start and jumped up, but a moment later groaned and held himself against the wall.

"I wish I could give you something, my friend. Help you out. I can't but...do try not to anger him so much this time. Think of Harry and what will happen to him if you were to die. Think of Harry. He loves you."

Severus snorted. "You should have thought of that instead of turning on him," he said and coughed.

"I'm so sorry," Lucius said. "But think of Harry. We have to go. He's waiting."

"And you can't just let me go now?"

Lucius shook his head. "There is no way out, even if I let you go. I can't even leave this place and I dearly want to. My love for my son and for my...for Faye is the same as your love for Harry and I think that should be enough for you to not suspect me of betrayal."

"Unless being on his side allowed them to live," Severus said. "You are if nothing else selfish. You care for only yourself and your own. I do not believe you did this for Harry or for me. Lucius, I have never trusted you because of this, and nothing you say will convince me to trust you. Let's get this over with."

Severus stood wobbly, and Lucius wanted to reach out and help him walk down the hall, but he knew he shouldn't. There were eyes and ears everywhere and if Lucius wanted to leave headquarters any time soon he would have to prove himself. He needed to get Harry his wand back.

"Ah, wonderful," Voldemort said when Lucius entered and pushed Severus into the room.

"Hello again, Severus."

Severus said nothing and stood his ground.

"I do like the spirit," Voldemort said. "Lucius, would you care to watch or do you have something better to do? I do remember how much you enjoy watching others in pain. I think today is a day for experiments."

Lucius wanted to say no. To leave the room and try to ignore Severus' screams. He wanted to do anything other than stay in the room but he knew he had to.

Voldemort smiled. "I think we will begin with the green potion."

Severus was not a potions master for nothing, and his eyes widened considerably when he saw the potion he had probably created himself. Lucius picked it up, and walked forward. "All of it, My Lord?"

"Yes."

Severus didn't fight. He just drank it, and then he screamed.

-

-

-

Hermione sat on Harry's bed and watched him search for his wand. Draco had gone to help Regulus and Faye hadn't offered much with a lack of knowledge on the dark illuminator, and Harry for a lack of something better to do continued on his search for his wand. Hermione had offered to help, and for a while she had before sitting down to simply watch him.

"It'll be alright," Harry said, looking up at Hermione from his spot kneeling next to his trunk. "I never really believed you would do any dark magic. It has to be something else."

Hermione nodded. She had never done much research on the dark arts, but she knew enough to know it left a taint behind, and she had never once thought to experiment with them, even if it was just to help Harry. Whatever Harry's dark illuminator had read when she touched it, it hadn't been her use of dark magic.

"Regulus saw something," Hermione said. "He looked scared. Just really surprised. He saw something when he was looking at my magic."

Harry nodded.

"I hope it isn't bad."

"Probably not. He said he had to do more research," Harry said and stood up, walking to the bed and sitting down next to her. "Everything will be alright. Draco cannot touch it and neither can my father, or Lucius. Even I couldn't touch it at one point. It's why I forgot about it. You don't have to worry about this, Hermione, it doesn't tell me that you are a bad person."

Hermione nodded. "But did you see?" she asked.

"See what?"

"The way Draco looked at me when I dropped it. You might have missed it, but he had this look of...I don't know disappointment. He's always said I'm his light and for a moment there he thought I had dabbled in..."

"And he also held you, and protected you, and he believed in you," Harry said. "I think he might love you."

Hermione shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, pushing her hair out of her face. "I don't think he knows me," she said.

"You were unconscious for four months," Harry pointed out and turned back to his trunk.

"Then I shouldn't know him, but he should know me, and I'm not too sure he accepts my blood still. Sometimes I think he might but then, he gets a look..." She trailed off.

Harry laughed. "I don't think I'm the right person for these kind of talks. Lavender is somewhere in the house. You could hunt her down and talk about this."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think she could be of much help in this case. I think it's just I've become conflicted and Draco has his own problems and so much is going on. I can understand why you're not bothering with a relationship, I guess."

"We are different people, with different things happening, and I think Draco needs someone like you. If you are worried about your blood, you shouldn't. He's a half-blood himself, isn't he? I've been waiting for the day when he realizes."

Hermione sat up in his bed, laughing. "Harry, you're terrible."

"Sometimes."

A knock on his door alerted them to Regulus, who came in with a confused Draco.

"But what does it mean?" the blond was saying.

"I see you'll need to do some studying on your own power," Regulus answered, and raised an eyebrow at Draco, who's cheeks seemed to change color.

"Have you found something?" Harry asked.

"She touched a Horcrux," Regulus said. "She's also not exactly pure of blood, and too light for her own good. The Horcrux she touched, it was tired of being a cup so to say. It created almost a mind of its own, it's becoming independent. But it needed a body."

Hermione got up from the bed. "What are you saying?"

"She's the Horcrux now."


	31. Knowing

**Author's Note: **I am soooo sooo sorry for not updating this fic in so long. I haven't given up on it. I promise...the rest of the story will just take a while to come. I've actually been away from it for so long that parts of my plot are unclear to me and as I was trying to write ch. 33 earlier tonight I didn't know why Harry had said a certain thing I was just really surprised that I had no answer so I'm going to re-read and maybe even edit bits of this fic...but eventually I will finish writing it. I still know how it ends...and it should only be about seven more chapters after this one if I plan correctly. I just have to figure out my subplots.

I've also been really busy lately and haven't really worked on much of my writing in the last month or so. I've had just insane amounts of school work lately. And graduation is coming up...and I'm getting a job...and just everything has just thrown me into a world where fanfiction is the fourth or fifth thing on my mind but I am almost positive that this summer I can finally finish this in my spare time...and I'm bound to have some time. Anyway...I don't quite remember what happened last but I'm almost sure it was a cliffy ending. I am so sorry for making you guys wait...enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**_Chapter Thirty_**

_Knowing_

_October 25, 1998_

For a long moment, silence prevailed. Hermione gasped, and fell to the ground, her hands over her mouth. Draco moved towards her, but stopped and looked from Harry to Regulus.

"What does that mean, exactly?" Harry said at last.

"I expect that to kill Voldemort you will have to kill me," Hermione said and hugged her knees to her body.

Harry dropped down to the ground next to her and wrapped his arms around her. Hermione let her head fall to his shoulder, and she began to cry hysterically. Draco standing before them made an odd noise as if he meant to say something, but then he turned.

"I can't," he said and left the room.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried and buried her face deeper into his robes.

"I'll give you a moment. I need to do more research," Regulus said awkwardly. He then stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Again, silence befell them, and Harry didn't think he minded it so much this time. Hermione continued to cry, but now they were silent tears and Harry thought it was better for her to cry everything out now before Regulus explained exactly what this meant, and if Hermione truly did need to die in order for the Horcruxes to be destroyed.

"You would do it, wouldn't you, Harry?" Hermione asked, suddenly. He hiccupped.

"Do what?"

"Sacrifice yourself for this cause. I mean destroying Voldemort."

"I wouldn't know," Harry said, and added, "and we do not know if you will have to. I don't want you worried about this."

In fact, Harry himself didn't want to think about it. A world without Hermione? He barely handled it when Hermione was merely unconscious, how would he be able to handle that? There had to be another way. He couldn't bear it if they had to lose Hermione to get rid of Voldemort.

"Harry?" Hermione said in a small voice.

"Yes?"

"I wouldn't hate you if that's how things have to end up. You need to get rid of him, and if that is the only way..."

"No, Hermione. I will not allow it. There must be another way."

Hermione smiled faintly and dropped her head back to his shoulder with a sigh. She let her knees drop and she closed her eyes tightly. Harry watched her from the corner of his eye. He couldn't imagine not ever holding her in his arms like this ever again. She couldn't die. She was his best friend, and she was the one person in his life that he needed more than anyone else but perhaps his father, and Ron. He loved this girl in almost every way possible and she would not be his sacrifice for the destruction of Voldemort. What would the point be, if he had to give up his friends?

"I love you, Hermione, and I will not let anything happen to you," he whispered.

"Love you too, Harry," Hermione said, and opened her eyes. "You're the best friend a girl could ever ask for, but in the end I don't think you'll have much of a choice. I'll get used to it, I guess. I'll be brave. I can handle this."

Harry squeezed her hand, and she smiled faintly through tears that had once more began spilling out of her eyes. Harry was so focused on her, that he didn't notice the brushing of someone against his mind until his scar erupted in pain, and Hermione was wiping blood off of his forehead.

"Harry?" she asked. "Harry?"

But Harry had fallen into his own mind, where he could feel his father calling out to him. His voice was weak but Harry could hear it clearly and he opened his mind wider to his father, and then he was falling down a black hole into a pain filled room.

Harry could see, feel, and even smell the blood underneath his father's body, but his father couldn't and had Harry not been present in his mind, Harry would have truly considered his father dead. But Severus Snape was not dead, and Harry would not let him die.

"Dad?" He asked.

He felt his father brush against his mind and he allowed a feeling of warmth through.

"Harry?"

The thought was weak, but it was there, and it gave Harry hope.

"How can I help?" Harry asked. "What can I do? What happened? What's wrong?"

His father didn't answer, and Harry felt pain, and then he heard his father scream.

"DAD!" he screamed with him.

"I'm...I'm alright, Harry," he said. "Voldemort knows about...he knows you're my son."

Harry knew at once that he shouldn't have trusted Lucius. Who else could have told him but Lucius. And Lucius had his wand. Why had he listened to Faye on this point? And now his father was being tortured, and Harry had no idea how he could help.

"What can I do?" He repeated, desperately.

"Just be here," his father replied, this time stronger than before.

"No...but I must do something. There has to be something. What do you need?"

Severus didn't respond, but Harry could still feel him, and what was more, he could see the room he was in. It was a large room, the walls were made of stone, and decorated with something but Harry didn't care to truly pay attention to that. Only Voldemort, Lucius, and Nagini were present in the room, and Harry spotted a table with potions that he couldn't recognize. Had they made his father drink of any them? What did they do?

Voldemort was laughing, saying something, but Harry couldn't really make it out. Lucius laughed and then Severus was pushing Harry away, and Harry was fighting with him.

"Let me do this," Harry said. "I can give you strength this way."

"No, Harry, please. He'll know something's going on." He pushed Harry out farther. "He won't kill me. He's waiting for you to be present to truly try and we can do something before then. Please, Harry. I'll be fine. What is a little..." He screamed again.

"I need to help you!" Harry said. "Dad!"

Severus pushed Harry back, and the last thing Harry heard before he was fully thrown out was, "We can establish this connection again...I lo...love you." And then there was yet another scream.

Hermione didn't know what to do. Through her mind, her entire life flashed, and she couldn't concentrate on any one event, but just think about everything as a whole. She was a Horcrux. She had a part of Voldemort's soul inside her, and though it hadn't been in there for long, Hermione knew that it meant she was a liability, and she would have to die to truly destroy it.

She was sitting on Harry's bed again, watching him toss and turn and mumble incoherent things. He had been unconscious for less than half an hour, but she was worried about him regardless, and watched him, waiting for him to wake up.

Harry turned mumbled something. Hermione tried to make it out, but it didn't seem to be English. She sighed and stood up. The room was not as much a mess as it had been earlier, but things were still thrown about. Hermione, for lack of something to do, began to pick up after Harry and try to find his wand in the mess that still remained in his trunk.

She hadn't picked much off the ground, when Harry woke up suddenly. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "What happened?"

"You're calmer, now," he said, evading the question.

Hermione shrugged. "Everything keeps running through my head," she admitted. "I'm so...so scared. But, but what happened with you?" She cocked her head to the side.

"I don't know really," Harry said and frowned. "I was sort of in my dad's head." And then it seemed to hit him, and he was up out of the bed. "My dad!" he cried.

"What, Harry?"

"Voldemort," Harry said and threw open his door. "He has my father."

"Harry? You don't have a wand. Harry!" Hermione called after him, before following. "You're not going to do something stupid are you?"

"He knows," Harry continued. "He knows."

"What, Harry? What does he know?"

"Who knows what?" Draco asked, stepping out of his room.

"Voldemort," Hermione said quickly.

"He knows he's my father," Harry said and rushed down the stairs.

Hermione followed close behind and she heard Draco and someone else following behind her. Harry was muttering to himself and Hermione followed, hoping that he wasn't going to go off to try and save his father. He didn't have a wand, and Voldemort was stronger than him regardless, and Harry had to destroy the Horcruxes first, before he went off to face Voldemort.

Eileen had not expected Harry to come to talk to her. He was always so busy and Eileen hated bothering him. She may not know Harry as well as she would like, but she meant to wait until after everything was over to truly get to know her grandson. So far the only time they had truly talked was when it involved passing on a message from his father.

"Is he at Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "I need to know if dad's at Hogwarts."

Eileen nodded, and turned in her painting, returning to the one Severus had of her at the school. She was hung among the Hogwarts' headmasters and headmistresses so as to be overlooked. What was another painting on a wall that already held so many?

When she appeared the office was empty.

"He left for a meeting," Dumbledore said from his portrait. "Hasn't returned since."

"Thank you," Eileen said, and turned once more into the painting to return to Grimmauld Place and her grandson.

"Dumbledore said he went to a meeting," she said as soon as she was back.

Harry nodded. "I just wanted to know if it was true. I...thank you."

Eileen watched him. There was a defeated look to his eyes, and he walked away. The girl, Hermione she thought her name was, followed after him but the other two boys remained behind, and a few seconds later, turned and walked the other way.

_October 26, 1998_

He had been tortured for the better part of a day, and then Voldemort had ordered Lucius to give him two potions, and put him back in his cell. Severus had been so weak by this point that Lucius had had to half carry him down there. He gave him a potion for the pain and one to return his strength and then left Severus back on the floor of his prison.

Harry knew what had happened now. He knew they had been found out, and he was probably trying to find a way to help him rather than working on destroying the horcruxes. Severus sighed. The connection had offered comfort, but it hadn't done more than that except perhaps allowed himself to say goodbye. Oh, how he hoped Harry didn't do something stupid.

Severus closed his eyes and leaned back into the wall, with the two potions he had been given Severus could barely feel his pain, but he also felt drowsy, and that was the effect of the other in trying to get him to regain his strength. Severus didn't want to fall asleep, however, not when he wasn't in pain. When he woke up he would be and coherent thought would be next to impossible.

He heard the familiar footsteps of Lucius Malfoy, coming back to his cell.

"Do you want me to say anything to him?" Lucius asked.

"To who?" Severus asked.

"Harry."

Severus pushed himself to stand. "You, stay away from my son."

"I did this for you," Lucius said again. "Do you want me to tell him anything?"

"To not try anything to stupid," Severus said finally. "And if you hurt him..."

Lucius laughed. "I will not," he said simply, "but I must be on my way. I don't know when I'll be back."

"And what kind of mission allows this little venture?"

"I just took over your job," Lucius said. "Of course I shall be watched closely by Bellatrix, but I will have time to see Harry in my heading there."

Severus watched him walk away. Lucius had taken everything from him in his opinion. His son was going to meet with Lucius for some reason or other. Lucius was now headmaster of Hogwarts, even if Severus had never wanted the post, and Lucius was gaining trust in Voldemort's eyes. Severus didn't trust Lucius. He never had, and although Dumbledore had always said it was just rivalry between the two spies, Severus had known otherwise. Lucius and he did things differently, thought differently, and Lucius had always been looking out for himself and no one else. Severus felt a spasm of pain that he shouldn't have felt under the potion, and he groaned. It wasn't fair, how this had all turned out, and Severus could only hope to see Harry again before Voldemort killed him.

Faye was the first to see him as he stepped inside the house. It had taken him a lot to get rid of the Death Eaters that followed him, but he had finally made it to Grimmauld Place.

"Lucius?" she asked and then she was rushing down the stairs and into his arms.

"I don't have much time," Lucius said. "I only just got rid of them. I need to see Harry."

Faye pulled away and shook her head. "He's not in his right mind," she said and then began hitting him with her fists, "How could you?" she asked. "You told Voldemort. You told him about Severus and Harry."

"I had to," Lucius said. "You don't know what could have happened..."

"Try me."

"I've been talking to some of them...the Death Eaters, and they knew. Two of them, they hinted at knowing. They have seen Harry up close and Harry looked too much like Severus, and then there was something about Hogwarts. I didn't want to do it after a while, after Draco was out of his service, but I had to."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "For some reason I can't imagine why I should believe you. You want power. I've always known this about you and I can't help but think this is your way of getting it now.

"Can I see Harry?"

"No," Faye repeated. "If you have to go, go. Harry will have nothing to do with you. He knows what you did. You are no longer good in his books."

Lucius nodded slowly. "Fine," he said and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a wand and handed it to her. "Harry's wand. Tell him also to not do anything stupid. Severus will live. I...I'll make sure of that."

Draco didn't know what to think of the way that Harry Potter sat at the table, staring out into space. Hermione was next to him, and she kept trying to coax him to eat, but Potter would do nothing. He stared at nothing, and Draco couldn't just concentrate on Potter and his issues. He had to think about Hermione. She was a horcrux. She would die by the end of this and Draco could do nothing about it.

He heard the door, and turned to see if Harry would do anything, but he didn't even move. It was as if he had heard nothing. Hermione did move.

"Go see who it is," she told him.

Draco nodded and stood up. He walked to the door and pushed it open and spied his father, and then his mother. He turned and walked back to where he had been seated.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Father," Draco said, looking at Harry to see if there would be a reaction, but there was none.

Hermione frowned at Harry and poked him on the arm. "Harry? Please say something. I think we have your wand back. Harry we have to destroy the horcruxes. Harry?"

He still didn't respond. He had been like this since he had talked to his grandmother, and Hermione had been by his side trying to get him to say something when Draco had joined them. It was good, he thought, that Hermione had something to focus on for the time being, but now she was talking to Harry about the horcruxes again as if forgetting that she was one of them.

Draco stood up and left the room. He didn't know if he could handle knowing that she was going to die. Could he just stand by and let them kill her?

He had to go see Regulus.

Thoughts ran carelessly through his mind. What occlumency had organized had been thrown into chaos within a few moments. He had held the slightest hope that it had all been a dream, that his father had never spoken to him and that he hadn't been discovered as his father. And then, he had asked his grandmother if his father was at Hogwarts, and just knowing that he had been called by Voldemort had given him proof enough that yes, he had been found out.

Harry could hear Hermione's voice, soothing as it was, worrying over him as she led him to a chair and then as she brushed his hair back, and held his hand and let him lean against her. He heard Draco's voice a few minutes later and then there was silence and Harry was left to contemplate what would happen next.

He would need his wand. He would need to destroy the horcruxes. He couldn't go after Voldemort without doing either of those things, and he couldn't save his father until he got his wand back and he destroyed the horcruxes. The horcruxes including Hermione.

Harry wished things hadn't happened like this. He should have had more time, but his father was being tortured and Harry was the only one that could do anything to stop it before Voldemort lost his mind and actually killed Severus before Harry was there to stop it.

Hermione was saying something about Harry's wand, but Harry could barely hear her, because now he was thinking about Hermione and her being a horcrux. He would have to kill her and he knew he couldn't. Not even for his father. There had to be a way around killing her. There just had to be.

Harry shook his head and tried to hear Hermione talking to Draco, and then suddenly someone slapped him.

"Draco!" Hermione cried.

"I'm off to see Regulus," Draco said and smiled slightly.

Harry watched him walk away and rubbed his cheek.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "I think Faye has your wand. You can destroy the Horcruxes now."

Harry dropped his hand from his cheek and then looked at Hermione. "My wand," he said.

Hermione grinned and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Harry, you're back! Lucius just stopped by. He had your wand I think."

For a few minutes a dark shadow passed over Harry as he thought of Lucius. Lucius would pay for what he had done. He couldn't believe he had once trusted the blond Slytherin to get him his wand or to teach him earlier that year. He couldn't believe the things he had shared with Lucius just to have him turn around and betray them in the name of his son and even Harry, as he claimed. But Harry knew that probably wasn't true. He had betrayed Harry's father unnecessarily, and he would pay for that. Harry would make sure of it.

He stood up, and decided to throw thoughts of what would happen to Hermione to the back of his mind, they would deal with that when they got to it. For now his only worry was to destroy the Horcrux. It didn't matter how late it was, or that he would need sleep to destroy them, he had to get to work.

Hermione took his hand and smiled at him and Harry couldn't help but think that everything would be alright.


	32. The Comfort of Friends

**Author's Note: **I've been yet again, very busy. Lately it's been mostly my love for tv that has kept me from writing and updating. Although now that the final chapters have formed themselves in my mind and I quickly wrote a chapter today I decided I needed to update to let you guys know. I do want to finish this before the summer is over so I can focus on other things seeing as College will most likely keep me busy. I keep thinking of new plots to just throw around and write a story around. But, anyhow, here is ch. 31. Enjoy. Please review. And thank you for reading.

This chapter I must admit is a little filler, but there's also a lot going on the background. Some development and such happening. I also couldn't think of a title, so that's what I came up with. Anyhow, enjoy.

**Summary: **

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

**_Chapter Thirty One_**

_The Comfort of Friends_

_October 26, 1998_

It was dark out. Harry had known it was dark out, but he hadn't connected this with the fact that Imogen, Ron, Lavender, and Regulus had gone to bed. Faye, Hermione, Draco, and he alone had been awake, and Faye had probably gone off to bed by now too. Draco had gone to the library and was reading, but Harry didn't want to spend time with him when he reminded him so much of Lucius. Harry wanted to destroy the horcruxes. He wanted to go into the library with Regulus and Imogen and begin the ritual, and destroy them. He didn't want to go to sleep. He was too hyped up, but Hermione had pushed him into his room and told him to go to sleep before she too went off to her room. Harry turned in his bed and pressed his cheek against his pillow.

It was no use. He couldn't close his eyes without imagining his father in pain, and truthfully he wasn't tired. He had gotten a nap, sort of, earlier when he was in his father's mind and now Harry could only think of destroying the horcruxes.

He heard the creaking of floorboards out in the hall, and then a door opened. Draco, Harry thought, going to bed. The door opened again and then someone walked towards his door and pushed it open. Hermione's head peaked in.

"Harry?" she asked. "Are you asleep?"

She pushed the door wider and stepped inside letting in the light from the hallway.

"No," Harry said. "Although it's a funny question to ask someone that could be asleep."

Hermione closed the door behind her and stepped further into the room, now in the dark. "I couldn't sleep," she said. "I can't stop thinking about the horcruxes and my...well, my being one."

"If it helps, I can't sleep either," Harry said.

"Your father," Hermione whispered.

"We can just hang out all night until they get up," Harry offered. "Come on, get on the bed."

He shifted away from the middle and patted his bed. Hermione grinned and slipped into bed with him. "Thanks," she said. "I think I couldn't handle being alone tonight. I went to find Draco, but I don't know where he went."

"Library," Harry said and tried to ignore the pang it gave him to know that she had looked for Draco first.

"Oh."

They were silent for a long moment, and then Hermione sighed. "I don't want to die," she admitted. "It's inevitable, I guess, but I don't want to die."

"You shouldn't have to," Harry agreed. "I could never ask that of you. There has to be another way. If it moved itself into your body, what's to say we can't take it and then destroy it?"

Hermione smiled at him "I don't know if we could accomplish that, but it would be worth trying."

"Let's talk about something else," Harry said, then. He didn't want to think about Hermione as a horcrux or his dad, captured by Voldemort.

"Like what?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know...did I tell you what happened with Ginny when I was leaving?"

"No...what?"

"Well, I told you how I wanted to go to Godric's Hollow and start my search there - it was a stupid plan - but the morning I was leaving Ginny was waiting for me. She had suspected I wanted to leave. I didn't notice anything all the time she was here. She was...I don't know following me around or something. The twins did mention she had a crush on me one night. I just wanted to ignore it."

Hermione stifled her laughter behind her hand and nodded for him to continue.

"So, then I came down," Harry said. "I was trying to be as quiet as possible and she comes out of nowhere and she started talking to me...and then she kissed me..."

"She kissed you!" Hermione exclaimed. "But what happened? I mean...Ron said later on she had become obsessed with you."

Harry laughed. "I pushed her away, and I desperately wanted to say something but words just weren't...I ran away. I just ran out the door."

Hermione was laughing now. "You ran out the door?" she asked. "No wonder that girl ended up so messed up later on."

Harry glared at her playfully. "What was I supposed to do, oh wise one."

"Not run away. Poor Ginny, and now she's off with Charlie I think trying to get over you. It was a love potion that intensified it, but still the feelings were there. I hope she will one day lead a normal life without the inclination to become your stalker."

"I shouldn't have told you what happened," Harry said.

"Fine. I'll stop talking about it, but you have to admit it was funny. Alright...um...I slept with Draco."

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't know how he was supposed to react to that.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I should have just kept that to myself..."

"No. No...it's alright. I was just shocked. I didn't think you would say something like that. I don't know what to say. What to ask. Did you enjoy it?"

Hermione laughed and buried her face in his shoulder, and Harry could see her red face. He began to laugh too and Hermione pulled her face back.

"A little," she said in between laughs. "It was awkward and uncomfortable and...I don't think I felt anything." Now, it was a humorless laugh that escaped her. "The next morning. Oh, Harry...I didn't know...and now I have to die and..." she trailed off, and Harry didn't know what she meant exactly.

She was suddenly crying against his shoulder, and Harry gathered her up into his arms and just held her there until she stopped crying and began to laugh again, and they continued talking, trying to ignore the things that would pain either of them. Eventually Harry fell asleep, with Hermione at his side, and she soon joined him in slumber.

As soon as breakfast was over, Harry led the others to the library. Ron and Lavender sat down and watched on, as Regulus explained what they were going to do, in detail. Draco sat near them and listened intently with Hermione, holding her hand as if to be reassuring. Imogen and Faye stood together, and Faye's hands rested on Imy's shoulders. The twelve year old looked up at Faye from time to time and only tried to listen to the part of the ritual that involved her, at other times she tried to engage herself in looking at other parts of the room.

"Just a drop of her blood on the Horcrux, with the spell, and then the other incantation. It will draw a lot of your power which is why we will have Draco next to you and he will be able to read your power and then give you his own if you need it to complete the ritual. In the meanwhile Faye and I will worry about the other incantation to make sure the blood is accepted and it destroys all other protections. This spell we will be incanting from the moment the blood is placed. You must wait for our signal to begin the other incantation but the first spell must be said at once."

Harry nodded. "Alright. This shouldn't be too hard, should it?"

Faye grinned. "That's the spirit," she said.

"It will take a lot out of you," Regulus warned. "You must accept help when you need it."

Harry nodded. He knew this. Although Draco would not have made his first choice for someone to take magic from, Harry would accept it. This was too important to think of old feuds. He and Draco had come to an understanding.

It took only a few minutes for them to prepare. Hermione, Ron, and Lavender stood aside at a good distance. He, Faye, and Regulus made up a small triangle and Draco stood at Harry's back. Faye had Imogen next to her and was talking to her quickly.

"You just need to let the blood fall on the locket, and then back up and join the others over there."

Imy nodded quickly.

"Hermione will heal you, alright."

She nodded again, and then they were truly ready.

Harry watched as Faye's wand flew across Imy's palm, creating a cut like a knife would. She gasped and Harry watched as the blood rolled down her hand and fell to the locket held up by magic that Regulus had set in place earlier. Imy ran back to Hermione as Harry focused on the spell. He waved his wand in the way Regulus had thought him and whispered the spell. The horcrux glowed green, and then Harry heard the combined voices of Regulus and Faye as they recited the spell. He watched them closely, waiting for their signal, and then Faye nodded and Regulus met his eyes and Harry started the end of the ritual.

Magic thrummed through his body, as Harry continued on. It was exhilaration as the locket cracked open let out a bunch of dust that Harry thought could have made him sneeze. It began to drift off, but Harry pushed farther with his own magic, stopping this. Faye and Regulus finished their own spell and then the Horcrux was surrounded by more of that green light. Regulus, Harry thought, levitated it, as Harry felt Draco's hand take his and push magic into him. He finished the spell in a few more breaths and then the locket burst. There was a scream, loud and shrill and then the locket, broken, almost as if something had crumpled it up.

"Thanks," Harry said to Draco who nodded and let who of his hand. He knelt down and picked up the destroyed Horcrux. "One more down," he said.

_October 27, 1998_

Hermione watched as they destroyed the tiara. She was sitting aside with Imogen, Ron, and Lavender again, just watching and wondering if they would be doing this to her in the day to come. It took so much out of all of them, that they could only do one each day, and now only she and the Snake - Nagini - remained.

They finished the spell, and Harry nodded gratefully at Draco, who said something back although Hermione didn't catch it. Then Faye picked up the tiara and she and Regulus tried a few spells on it.

"Two more," Regulus said, and although he didn't look in Hermione's direction, she knew that he was thinking about her and not Nagini.

"Lunch," Faye announced. "We all need it."

Hermione stood up and joined Draco and Harry who walked together. Sharing magic, had made them closer and Hermione was glad for this. Draco, she knew would never admit admiring Harry's magic, but he did. It was something that called to him, and being able to fuel it amazed him.

"I never did apologize," Draco said to Harry suddenly.

Hermione listened in, but remained quiet, walking behind them.

"What for?" Harry asked.

"A little incident in a certain bathroom."

Hermione didn't know much about what had happened in the bathroom, only that it had strained Harry's relationship with his father and that Draco had somehow been involved, so she listened.

"That," Harry said, "is past. I should be the one apologizing, not you. The spell I used..."

"Snape explained," Draco said. "I've been thinking about it, a lot. What I did. I didn't understand when your father got angry at me over it. I knew it had been wrong. I didn't understand the intent. The reason...what I needed to cast that."

Harry shook his head. "It didn't hit me, and I shouldn't have used the spell I did. I didn't know what it would do."

Draco didn't respond. Hermione walked behind them in silence and waited for them start talking again, but they didn't and instead walked in a comfortable silence.

"My boys," Hermione said and threw an arm around their shoulders each.

Harry laughed and Draco glared at her halfheartedly.

"I am not to be classed with the likes of Weasley and Potter."

Hermione snorted. "You always wanted to be Harry's friend, from what I remember."

"Perhaps," Draco said and looked at Harry.

"Obnoxious as you were back then, you have changed for the better and I think now we can be friends. As Hermione pointed out once, we are very much alike." He smiled.

"See. My boys," Hermione said. "I can claim that and have neither of you glare at me."

They continued into the kitchen, and Hermione felt a carelessness about her that had left her when she learned she was a horcrux. It was like being back at Hogwarts before Voldemort came back with only the worries of her classes before her. For a moment she could forget and just watch Harry and Draco as they began to talk. Hermione thought she heard Harry refer to Draco as a ferret, and Draco was laughing.

Regulus had explained to them exactly how every spell worked to destroy the Horcrux, how the soul had to be encased just as they lifted the protection with Imy's blood. How then they had to destroy the soul, while simultaneously fighting any other protections that it might bring up. It was the lack of fight against the defenses of the ring, that had led to Dumbledore's mistake and eventually the Horcrux's taking of his hand.

"Dumbledore kept the ring intact," Regulus said. "He did not destroy it, but he destroyed the Horcrux within it at the cost of his hand and had it not been for Severus, his life. We cannot be sure, even if we do it his way that Hermione will be unharmed."

"She'll be in excruciating pain...it could drive her mad. Her mind is already frail."

Harry frowned in thought. "The Horcrux could attack her, even, instead of us."

Faye nodded.

"And there is no way of removing the Horcrux, putting it back in the cup. I mean, if it left the cup and claimed Hermione...then can we do the same in reverse?"

Regulus shook his head. "It would kill her first before being moved. We don't know the extent of the hold the Horcrux has on Hermione. You told me of the diary, how it was killing the Weasley girl to take over...that will be the end if we don't move fast. It is not strong enough yet, but it will be, and it will have attached itself to her so that we cannot remove it."

Harry hadn't thought it would be easy, but he hadn't wanted to consider it impossible, and what Regulus and even Faye were saying was that it was. He didn't know what to do, how to solve this problem, but there had to be a way. Hermione couldn't die. Harry didn't know what he would do if she died.

"There has to be a way," he said and stood up.

"We must prepare for there not being anything for us to do. We can try, but we must prepare for the worst. I know you care for her, Harry, and so much has happened to her already, but if there was any other way..."

Harry nodded. "I understand," he said and couldn't help but think of just not doing anything about it. He couldn't kill his best friend, but with his wand he could rescue his father.

There was no way they would destroy the last two Horcruxes anyhow. No one would do anything to Hermione, and how were they to get Nagini without going near Voldemort. They could do both. And maybe...maybe there was a potion, or Severus could have an idea. They could practice on Nagini - after all the snake, too, was alive.

"Harry," Ron said from behind him.

Harry turned. "Hey," he said.

"What's going on?"

There had been a separation, Harry thought, between himself and Ron. He had felt it earlier when it was just himself, Draco, and Hermione. Ron had Lavender, it was true, but Harry couldn't think back to the last time he and his best friend had truly had a conversation.

"They said nothing can be done about Hermione," Harry said. "I want to think otherwise but all the facts, everything...anything we could try might lead to her dying anyway."

"Oh," Ron said. "I thought it might even be easy."

Harry sighed. "I guess it's not. But, enough about that, how is everything? You about screamed bloody murder when Lavender was being tortured. You obviously love her."

Ron blushed as if he hadn't expected this to come up. "I do," he said. "She's just...I don't know. She's the only girl that has ever understood me. All of me. She knows what to say in any occasion. She loves to cook."

Harry laughed. "I really am happy for you," he said. "I meant to ask earlier, but everything was so hectic, have you heard from Ginny...or about her?"

Ron shook his head. "To be truthful, I haven't even asked mum about her, last I talked to her. I should have. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. I just...I mentioned what happened the day I left to Hermione the other night."

Ron laughed. "I still can't believe she's with Malfoy. I mean, what does she see in that guy? I always thought...well, the two of your are so alike...I always thought it'd be the two of you. For a while I did like her, but we argued too much. The two of you though..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I think I'm alright with Hermione and Draco dating. I never liked her that way anyhow."

"Hmm...if you say so. It's just even now. She's always holding your hand, or watching you. Sometimes I think Malfoy is seriously jealous of you two. And then, when she was petrified or whatever you visited her more than anyone else."

"And had Malfoy known she was there, or could enter Hogwarts he would have been there every day," Harry said back.

Harry didn't understand why he didn't want Ron to think that he liked Hermione so much. He had never bothered so much before with what his best friend thought, but this bothered him. He didn't like Hermione. She was his best friend and nothing more.

"She's my best friend," he said to Ron. "That's it."

"Alright," Ron said and put his hands in front of him as a gesture of peace. "How about a game of chess for old time's sake."

Harry grinned and nodded.

Draco had been living in Grimmauld Place long enough that he knew that at any time someone was bound to be in the kitchen. So when he stepped into the kitchen at midnight, he wasn't surprised to find someone in the kitchen. He was, however, surprised to see it was Faye.

"Hi," he said, and stood awkwardly by the door for a long moment.

"Come in," she said. "I promise I won't hurt you or anything."

Draco grinned. "What are you doing up so late. I expected Weasley to be in here, not you."

She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. It's just..."

"Hermione?" Draco asked.

She nodded. "That and Lucius, and just the war in general. I can't help worrying that we are all going to die."

"I wanted to run," Draco admitted. "To go back to Malfoy manor and hide with my...with Narcissa. I knew I couldn't but the idea was there. But Potter...and then Hermione...they need us. And we have to find a way to destroy the Horcrux without hurting her. There has to be a way."

Draco walked across to a cupboard and began making himself hot chocolate. He had come down here for this and hoped it would help him sleep, but as he finished, adding a bunch of mini marshmallows into his drink, he sat down across Faye.

"We have to do something," he repeated.

"Sometimes there isn't anything for us to do. This may be the case now, and I do not want her to die, but it might be inevitable. Regulus, as much as I might dislike him, might be right on this one. He has researched this topic for years."

Draco didn't want to give up hope. Hermione meant so much to all of them and he didn't want her to die over this war, purposely. And if they would stand and watch this, then it would be murder and Draco would not consider it anything otherwise.

He picked up and took a sip of the hot liquid.

Faye stood up. "I should head to bed," she said, and walked to the door, but paused there and turned back to him. "I did hope we could have a good relationship perhaps as just friends for now rather than anything else, but everything's been pretty busy. I still would like to try. For years I spent my time wondering who you were. What kind of person you turned out to be. What you looked like...and knowing you. I don't think I could have been happier at how you've turned out. Good night."

Draco sat in the kitchen, motionless for a long time, before he picked up his hot chocolate and he walked up to his room. She loved him and seemed to want only the best for him. Draco had never realized before how. He had always wanted to put up having any sort of really important conversation with her. How had Harry dealt with it, finding out that his father was alive? That he was his potions professor? Draco could not have handled that. He could barely handle this, and Faye hadn't been in his life before his finding out or made his life miserable. But he had to give Faye a chance. She was his mom, after all. And while he was at it, he would find a way to save Hermione.

Draco brought his hot chocolate to his mouth, and took a large gulp, letting it warm him. He sighed and continued drinking, ideas forming in his head.


End file.
